#celery is the most disgusting vegetable on gods green earth

[cathcacen]

Ora’s efforts to eat healthier do not go unnoticed.

Ora is mine, Heulan is not!

It starts with an offhanded comment and she’s not sure he’d meant it, but the words stay with her and she’s suddenly terrified.

Keep eating this way and you’re gonna get sick, and then where would I be?

They’d been in the middle of one of their home-cooked dinners, playing out their usual banter. Most days, it begins and ends with her saying, petulantly, “But I don’t like it.”

That day, it had ended with her sitting at his computer, researching the effects of vitamin deficiency and bad diets while he’d washed up after.

The next few week passes in a flurry of frenzied research. She stockpiles her fridge with fresh fruit and buys a slow juicer. She donates her crates of coke and sugary ciders to her office pantry, and with it go her secret stash of crisps and sour cream Pringles. She takes the bottles of champagne and unopened white wines from her fridge and shoves them into her empty larder – a treat for another time, she tells herself, and uses the space to store whole milk and yogurt instead. And when an article pops up on her news feed to debunk the benefits of fruit juice, she grudgingly adds celery, beetroot, and cucumber to her shopping list.

It kills her, but she adds vegetables to her juices. She makes it a point to get up to eat breakfast, trading the rainbow-coloured fruit loops for unfrosted flakes, which she dresses up with fresh berries.

It’s not half bad, she thinks, munching on a strawberry and washing it down with milk.

At dinner, Heulan eyes her warily as she turns down a frosted red velvet cupcake. He tries again when they’re at the movies, and looks confused when she asks for her popcorn lightly salted, and not coated in extra caramel. When they’ve found their seats and when the ads are airing, he leans over to whisper in her ear.

“Are you okay? What’s up?”

She shovels a handful of popcorn into her mouth. I haven’t had cake in a week and it’s making me miserable, she thinks. “Nothing,” She garbles, and he laughs and ruffles her hair and shushes when the trailers come on.

He’s watched enough movies with her to know she likes the trailers.

They’re back at her loft the next day, and he lets out a shocked yelp when he opens her fridge to start on dinner. “What on earth happened here?!”

She edges over and peers inside. It’s just as she’d left it – full of greens, the dreaded kale and celery sitting together in their water-filled jug, far in a corner where they can’t possibly taint other stuff, and a colourful combination of fruit. “What?”

“Where’s all the bottled juice stuff?” He rummages through the shelves. “The chocolates? The leftover cakes?” He pauses, then withdraws a small jar, his voice turning pitchy. “YOU HAVE GOJI BERRIES?! Who are you?!”

She fights him for the jar and shoves it back into the fridge, grumbling. “You said the bottled stuff was sugared flavoured water so I’m making my own now. That’s what the celery is for.”

“Oh my god, Ora, there’s a beetroot in here.” He’s so deeply immersed in her fridge that she can barely see his head. “You have carrot sticks. What’s going on?”

“You told me to eat healthier!” She whines at him, crossing her arms and stomping her feet. On one hand, it feels childish somehow – but on the other, it feels cathartic. She wonders if she’d somehow regressed after meeting him. “See, I’m trying to eat healthier so I don’t get sick and die and leave you in the lurch.”

He pauses, tilting his head a little to look at her, and she can see the realisation in his dark, almost-black eyes. Then he chuckles, his expression warming as he straightens and shuts the fridge door before grabbing her arms, his grin wide. “Is that why you didn’t want the red vines, or the ice cream, or the fries in the cinema?”

She mutters something about saturated fats and excess sugar and colouring, and he bursts out laughing and hugs her tightly.

“Silly Ora,” He says, squeezing briefly. “You’ve been watching British television again, haven’t you? Overweight and underweight people switching diets?”

“Maybe,” She grumbles, leaning into him. “I know I eat like a five year old.”

“Five year olds like bananas with honey on toast.” He chides teasingly as he pulls away. He’s grinning so hard she can barely see his eyes now.

She’s glad one of them is pleased. “That stuff is disgusting,” She tells him. “Bananas go in cake, as do carrots.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. “Ora, I want you to eat better so you stay healthy.” He takes her hands, beaming. “That way, we can go on more adventures and have more time together, y’know?”

“It’s not like I’m sick and dying,” She grumbles.

“You won’t be young and healthy forever, you know. I am planning on living a while, though, and you have to be there too.” He squeezes her hands, and she feels her cheeks warm. “Wrinkles and grey hair and all.”

“Yeah, so stop making fun of my beetroot then,” She pouts playfully at him.

“I will. But while I want you to stay healthy, I also want you to live happily, so…” He digs into one of the brown paper bags from his restaurant and comes up with a small box. “…maybe a Nutella cheesecake to make up for your efforts this week?”

She lets out a squeal and leaps at him, blissfully aware of her own weak-willedness.

That night, he beams with pride as she eats every last vegetable on her plate.

Next week’s reward is a lemon-scented crème brulee.

#emmbot writes #ora ethinacae #heulan serac #raindrop pendants au #canon divergent