It's Okay

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The buffet is huge, and I run a hand through my damp hair nervously. After I'd taken my shower, Adam took one, and in the meantime, Barry and Brad came to his room. So now we're down here at the buffet all together.
"What's wrong?" Adam asks me, noticing my weird behavior.
"I don't have enough money?" I say, the statement coming out like a question.
"It's included in the hotel bill."
"But I'm an extra person," I reply.
"Shawn wanted to go to the pancake place across the street," Barry laughs, referring to their manager. "You're technically paid for."
"Oh. Wow. Thanks," I respond with a smile. We're led to a table, and Neil immediately sits in the back of the u-shaped booth seat. Barry and Brad go on one side, and I sit on the other side with Adam.
"Why did we sit down when we're going to get our food now?" Neil asks, and Barry shrugs.
"You're the one who sat down."
"Well. Now I'm the one to stand up. Move it," he says, shooing Brad and Barry out of the booth so he can get out. I stand up, and so does Adam. He glances at me, and I meet his eyes.
"Is something wrong?"
"No." I start walking after the others.
"Don't lie to me," he says, grabbing my hand and stopping me.
"Nothing's wrong," I tell him, biting my lip. His grip on my hand is comforting, but I still feel slightly panicked.
"You can tell me," he says softly.
I don't respond for a moment, chewing my lip nervously. I look up at him before blurting out, "I'm not hungry."
"Wait what?" He blinks in confusion. "Okay?"
"But it's fine. Come on." I pull him forward, and he follows. We go over to the coffee, and releasing his hand, I pour two cups. Handing him one cup, I glance at him.
"You're not hungry."
"No. Not really."
"Are you, um, how do I put this?" He bites his lip as he furrows his brow in thought.
"I don't have an eating disorder, if that's what you're asking," I reply softly.
"Do you want to go back to the table?"
"Okay." We walk back to the table, and the guys aren't back yet. Adam sits in the booth, and I sit beside him, careful not to spill my coffee.
"Is something in your head telling you that you're not beautiful?" he asks, his voice soft as he covers my small hand with his large one.
I don't say anything for a moment, chewing my lip nervously. "Well, I'm not beautiful," I reply slowly, the words bitter on my tongue.
"You are beautiful. And I thought you liked to cook?" he asks. "Hey. Look at me." I look up and meet his eyes.
"I do. I just don't really like eating it? I like to make food for others," I explain. "But like sometimes I just cave and eat too much and ugh," I groan, covering my face with my hands.
"It's okay."
"No. It's not okay." I feel tears building in my eyes, and I lower my head onto the table, burying my face in my arms. Adam puts a hand on my shoulder, and I let out a long breath as I try not to cry.
"Come here," he says, and I look at him. He pulls me into his arms, and he holds me awkwardly in the booth. Despite the position we're in, I instantly feel better as I bury my face in his neck, his scent calming me. He rubs my back soothingly as I let out a shaky breath. "It's okay."

This is literally how I imagine Adam tho like when you're lowkey having a crisis and breaking down he'd make you feel safe and loved and okay imma stop now

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