There's No Such Thing As Too Young

I stood back from the christmas tree, tilting my head to the side as I looked it over.

It was nicely decorated, with coloured lights and antique ornaments.

It was just how my Grandmother used to make it look.

Dimi was already playing with the ornaments located on the bottom of the tree

I had to laugh at how much it was leaning to the left though.

Mike joined my side, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's wonky." I stated, shaking my head.

"It's not wonky! I cut that thing down with my own Two hands!" Mike scoffed.

"Which is exactly why it's wonky."

"It's not wonky! It's just...angled." He defended, trying to find the right word.

"You mean wonky?"

"Stop saying it's wonky!" Mike exclaimed, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

"But it is wonky." I said, lacing our fingers together.

"You're going to give it a complex, apologise to it."

"Michael, I'm not apologising to our tree."

"Apologise to it." He encouraged, squeezing me.

I groaned.

"I'm sorry, tree." I muttered, rolling my eyes.

"Much better! Now, lets go shower and do naughty things that I missed while on tour." He whispered in my ear, kissing behind it.

I shivered and alllowed him to pull me up the stairs.

He pushed me into my room and onto the bed, hovering over me.

Mike started kissing at my neck, nipping at my jaw as he tried to unbutton my shorts.

Suddenly, a thought came screaming to mind.

"Mike, stop." I breathed, grabbing his hands.

I couldn't do this right now.

He pulled away.

"What's wrong? Are you not into it?" He frowned, kneeling next to me.

"It's not that, I just..."

"Just what, babe? Whats the matter?" Mike asked, taking my face in his hands.

"I just don't want to." I murmered, tugging at my sleeves.

Mike noticed and stiffened.

I could tell he knew.

"Take your jumper off." He ordered.

It was my turn to panic now.

I'd had a little slip up this morning.

"No." I denied, scooting off the bed.

Mike grabbed me around the waist, pulling me back to him as he tried to lift the bottom of my jumper over my head.

I struggled but he held me down easily as he managed to yank my jumper over my head.

I heard him gasp softly and that's when I started crying.

His eyes were focused on the scarlet lines that decorated my ribcage, along with the word 'fat' etched on my chest.

I grabbed my jumper and held it to me as my body shook.

"Jesus christ, how did you manage this?" Mike asked incredulously, shaking his head.

I shrugged and kept turned away from his stare.

I was too scared and ashamed to see the look on his face.

"Millie, look at me please." He sighed, reaching out to touch my arm.

I refused to do so, and Mike ended up turning my face with his fingers placed under my chin.

I looked up briefly, holding onto the jumper tightly.

He looked dissapointed, but not mad.

"Come here, princess." He ushered, pulling me to his chest.

I cried into his shoulder, something I'd done a few times while we'd been together.

His hands rubbed my back in circles.

"Why did you do it?" He asked quietly, stroking my hair.

"I don't know, I just couldn't stop thinking about it." I replied, feeling my tears slow slightly.

"Is that why you were up before me this morning?"

I nodded.

"You should have woke me up, Millie." He breathed, pushing my hair from my face and wiping under my eyes.

"I didn't want to, you'd just got back from tour."

"That doesn't matter to me, babe! I can't handle seeing you upset or knowing that you're suffering inside!"

"I'm sorry." I bowed my head, only for it to be lifted by Mike placing his hands on my cheeks.

"Don't be sorry, just promise me that you'll wake me up next time." He pleaded, searching my expression.

"I promise." I told him, and he rested his forehead against mine.

"Lets get you in the shower, I'll clean the cuts and dress them for you."

"Okay." I mumbled, letting him pull me off the bed by my hand.

He dragged me to the bathroom and quickly turned on the shower, allowing it to warm up.

He shut the door, even though he was still inside.

Mike's hands moved to my shorts, where he opened the button and pulled them down my thighs, leaving me in my tights.

I was shivering as I averted my eyes to the side.

I didn't want to look at Mike or in the mirror.

I was so disgusted by my body.

Mike then pulled my tights off me, letting me lean on him as he pulled them off my feet.

I was now left in just my panties and bra, with my jumper still held to my chest.

It was hiding as much of my stomach as possible.

I was hideously fat.

"Millie." Mike called softly, brushing my hair back.

I looked at him with empty eyes.

"Stop doubting yourself, you're so beautiful that it's unreal. You look like you've been handmade, you're so delicate and you have the most perfect details. Please stop hurting yourself, you're hurting others by doing this to yourself."

"I'm huge and you know it." I whimpered, tightening my grip on the jumper.

"Millie, your hipbones stick out. Your arms and legs are like sticks, please stop with this nonsense." Mike begged.

"I can't, because I hate how I look. Every morning I wake up and hate what I see in the mirror!" I exclaimed, the tears starting up again.

"Jesus, Millie." Mike sighed, wrapping his arms tightly around me.

I cried hard into his chest, dropping the jumper and clutching onto his shirt.

"Shh, come on, babygirl." He soothed, speaking into my hair.

I rested against him, and he ran his hands up and down my back.

"Let's get you in the shower." He whispered, pressing one more kiss to my forehead and pulling away.

I made no effort to move.

Mike saw this and reached behind me, unclipping my bra and slowly pulling it down my arms.

He threw it to the pile of clothes that had accumulated.

He didn't make the act sexual, infact, he pressed his lips all over my chest.

He then pulled my panties down my legs, also tossing them to the side.

He stood up straight again, opening the glass door to the shower and gently moving me to get in.

The steam from the shower spread throughout the small room.

Mike went to pull away once I was stood in the cubicle, but I grabbed his arm.

"What's wrong?" He asked in question.

"Stay with me."

He looked hesitant at first, but gave in.

He nodded slowly and pulled his sweatshirt over his head, exposing his inked torso.

He was so beautiful.

He pulled off his socks, and then unuttoned his jeans, pulling them down with his boxers.

I turned to the shower, stepping under the spray.

I felt Mike stand behind me and shut the glass door.

I whimpered as the water hit my new cuts.

Mike's arms encased me from behind, and he wrapped them around my naked chest.

I felt the waterworks start again and my body shook.

"Let it all out." Mike told me in my ear, pressing his face in my neck.

So I did.

I cried under the water, with Mike holding me protectively.

Notes

Poor Millie!