You stare at the message, pulse jumping in your throat. The memory of the cold click against your skin and the faint burn in your arm flashes fresh in your head. Your first instinct is to tell him. Instead, your thumbs move on their own.
You: No. They’re still here. Just… thinking about it.
A full minute passes.
Levi: Good. Leave them alone. I told you, I can help you with the gym stuff if you want it the right way.
You force out a short reply.
You: Right. Yeah. I’m fine.
The pen catches the light on the counter, gleaming like it knows you’re lying. The muscles in your arm twitch faintly, whether from nerves or something else you can’t tell.
You: When you started working out, how long before you saw any difference?
Levi: Depends on the person. Why?
You hesitate, then:
You: Just wondering what’s realistic.
Levi: If you want to start, I can walk you through it. Tomorrow morning, guest pass on me. But no shortcuts.
Your stomach knots. Tomorrow’s not soon enough.
You: Alright. See you then.
You toss the phone aside and sink into the bed, the weight of the conversation pressing on you more than the failed lift earlier. In the back of your mind, you wonder if you will notice anything tomorrow… and if you could even hide it if you do.
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