A/N: I do not advocate or encourage anorexia. I do not encourage damaging oneself in any way. This is only a story, okay? :] Just enjoy.
------------------------------------------
For weeks, I stared at Naomi during our "wellness" class at the community college. She and I were both English majors, and the so-called "wellness" program was a way of keeping the students in shape, or so the administrators said. Never a fan of sweating in public, I hated the class at first. The instructor was a bastard and he was only there to stare at my enormous tits anyhow- and I was paying for this? But I didn't get enough exercise, anyway, and the first day I saw Naomi, I knew I'd made the right choice.
Naomi was five and a half feet tall, modest compared to my six even. She wore long sweatpants and a baggy tee shirt the entire time, but even so I could see the contours of her narrow, thin shoulders as the shirt hung off of it, and I could see the slightly protrusive bones in her wrist. Sometimes her short sleeves fell back when she raised her arm, and I couldn't help staring once I realised how thin it was- how thin she was. Naomi fascinated me in a way that I had never been fascinated before. When we ran in class and were cooling down, I watched her panting and fanning herself with those delicate hands, and I was mesmerised.
It took me a good month to admit that I had feelings for Naomi. I knew already that I was gay; men did nothing for me. I'd had a string of short-lived relationships and a lot of bad sex, and it seemed that the joy was out of life. Nothing excited me on the spot the way it used to, even masturbating was hard because I didn't know what to think about. It took five, ten minutes just to get aroused enough to feel like continuing.
That was my condition when I first saw Naomi. Then everything changed.