Short Story: The Struggle for Perfection part 4

“I’m sorry,”
Her eyes snapped up.
“Too personal?” He said and he walked away from the door, still keeping a distance between them, as if he knew she was afraid and didn’t want to startle her, but at the same time moving away from the door.
Olivia smiled.
“I’ve broken into your apartment, your personal space and you…” She shook her head.
He smiled and looked at her and she felt a blush hit her cheeks.
“So, I should go.” She said slowly.
“And you are welcome to come back –”
“Really? Just like that?” She said taken aback by how easy going he was taking everything.
“Sure, though I don’t think you need to lose any more weight Olivia, but then I’ve always thought you looked perfect.” He said with a shrug.
He said it so casually, something so personal, so intimate, like he had known her for a while, like they always spoke like this.
Olivia blinked, not sure what to do with herself or the compliments, she looked up at him; his eyes were so brown, like deep mahogany. He saw too much and for once the news didn’t disturb her.
“Well erm, thank you.”
“For the compliment or for letting you use my place?” He said cocking his head to the side.
“Your quite forward, Isaiah.” She said and noted his surprise at her using his name.
“And you didn’t answer my question Olivia.” He said with an easy smile, everything he did seemed effortless, even his posture, his arms loosely folded one long leg kicked casually over the other.
Olivia found herself smiling.
“For both,” She said before leaving.

Short Story: The Struggle for perfection

She looked in the mirror, tilting her body from one side to the other, her eyes narrowed a fraction as she detected with a critical eye more than a few things wrong.
Olivia huffed in annoyance. How long till she was perfect? She had been working out for months and still her body wasn’t where she wanted it to be. The lack of food the strenuous workouts in the gym. What was the point if she couldn’t look exactly how she wanted?
She covered the mirror with a sheet again, she only allowed herself the mirror a week before weigh day to pump her up and it usually worked, but today, she felt more deflated than anything.
She needed to be perfect.
She glanced at the time, it was five am. If she hurried she could get in a full workout before she left for work. She quickly pulled on her tracksuits and her hoddie. She hated jogging; she really did, and preferred her workout DVD much more but her roommates had started to complain about the noise she made every time she jumped up and down. Disliking gyms for their crowds she had been forced to start jogging but had stopped when she realised that her neighbour worked nights and got in around eight am. She had snuck in and had been so afraid every second, but after a while she had grown comfortable, she had even had a key cut and kept spare exerting clothes over at his house.
*
Olivia was barely functional after returning from work, they had a new boss that Olivia actually liked but who had known her before and so kept referring to her as Ollie. She hated it, hated any attachment to before. She wanted to distance herself from before as much as possible but couldn’t do it if she was being referred to as Ollie.