Glass on the Floor (Private Roleplay with Thighhigh once again)(Stalkers welcome)

“It’s called being healthy. My ex was a fitness junky, and he suggested it.” Evelyn said, leaning against the counter slightly. “I want to lose the weight.”

"You lose any more weight and you'll be able to see your spine through you stomach," he said, shaking his head disbelievingly. "You need food."

“I really don’t.” She said, shrugging a shoulder and fiddling with her bracelets. “And my spine won’t show. I’ve got a while to go before it would.”

"You must have some fucked up mirrors, then," he said, his head inside the fridge while he searched fr something to make.

“They’re normal mirrors, Baylee.” She said, shaking her head. Just because she didn’t like looking in them didn’t mean they weren’t normal.

He shook his head, pulling out a carton of eggs, a bag of cheese, and a bag of diced ham. "Whatever you say, man."

"I'm changing the subject." She stated, looking around the kitchen and resisting the urge to tell him that her diet didn't allow her to eat eggs. "So, how long have you lived in this house? Since…you left, or..?"

"'Bout two years," he said, bending over and pulling out a bottle of vegetable oil. "Rich bought it almost immediately."

"It's cute. Or-not exactly cute, but it looks like a nice place to live." She said, nodding. Her fiddling had slowed a bit, now that they were on a more comfortable topic.

"It's very linear," he said, jabbing a finger at the door opposite from the one that leads to the living room. "We were in the guest bedroom, where you'll be staying at. That room right there is mine. Well…ours, I guess." He tapped the side of his head.

"It's all neatly set out." She observed, looking from one door to the other. "Way more so than my apartment. I'm pretty sure the floor plan and interior placing was done by a drunk person, because the washing machine is right next to my stove, and the drier is in the bathroom."

He shrugged as he pulled out a bowl from a cabinet at head level. "At least it makes life interesting."

"Something like that. It's a pain, too." She shook her head, huffing a small laugh. "Do you need any help?"

He shook his head, cracking three more before opening the bag of shredded cheese. "Nah, I've been cooking for us for a while. I got it."

"Well, yeah, but now you've gone and added another person to that list of people to cook for, me. So the least I can do is help somehow." She said, pushing away from the counter to move closer, watching what he was doing.

"We all eat the same food, silly," he said, rolling his eyes. "We got only one body."