Chapter 1
Luna had always been the pretty one in her group of friends, long black wavy hair, bright blue eyes, full lips... her Italian genetics had played a big part into making her a true mediterranean beauty. She had always had a nice body, decent sized boobs, good round butt and a flat stomach, not because she didn't have a big appetite, but because her mum had always been trying to keep her thin and pretty. As many Italian mums, her mum was obsessed with the looks of her teen daughter, always going to the salon to keep her hair looking good and healthy, doing her nails, training like crazy... As I was saying, Luna had always been that one teen that doesnt have an ugly fase, no acne, no braces... just perfect.She had just graduated high school and she was ready to head to college, her mum had made sure that she had brand new outfits so she kept her good apperance while being away, she had also given her a nutricional guide on what to eat and what to avoid to keep her from gaining weight, like most college students do, and she had also prepared an exercise routine for her to do every night to stay in shape. Luna was more than ready to live alone and rock it while being away.... but things were not going to be as planned.
By the beginning of August Luna moved into her new dorm, it was pretty spacious, she had to share it with an other student but they had a living room and a small kitchen to themselves, which was perfect for luna, this way she could exercise and also cook her own food. This is when I come into the story. I was her room mate. She had already instaled when I arrived almost 3 days after she did since I had been away on vacacion with my family until last minute. I remember the first time I saw her. I was intimidated. She looked like she could be an actress, she had this Megan Fox look. Her room was perfectly organized and she had also gotten groceries already so her fridge was full of veggies and fruit. Although she was really pretty her personality disapointed me, she was mean and kind of rude when it came to actually talking to me or trying to socialize.
During the first month things were okay, we were so busy trying to fit in and meet new people that we hardly spent time in the dorm, so we didnt have any problems really. After that first month we started to have our first exams and proyects to turn in so we started to stay in more often and just work on our stuff. She always cooked her food and managed to live off salads and tea. This stayed this way until the first time I ordered food. I was trying to finish this proyect for the following day and I just had no energy to cook my food, so instead I decided to order some pizza and have it delivered to our dorm. Trying to be polite I invited her to have some.
- Do you like pizza? Well I guess you do since your family is Italian hahaha... wanna have some? - I asked as soon as the pizza arrived
- Hmmm.... I dont usually have pizza and definitaly I have never had pizza from a restaurant before... only the one my mum makes... I guess I will give it a try. - She said
She took a pice and ate it.
- Oh waoh... This is really good - She said with her eyes wide open and touching her lips with her tong trying to get every last touch of flavour
- I know right? You can have more if you want I am not really hungry.
She took and other pice, and then and other, and then more until she had eaten at least 3/4 of the pizza.
After that day we made it a tradicion to order pizza every thuesday, it kind of became out thing, I would always eat just a couple pieces and she would just finish the rest of it. It was her cheat meal for the week.
Time went by and although she still ate healthy food most of the times, thuesdays had turned into a cheat day for her. Now she would have doughnuts for breakfast, mcdonalds for lunch and pizza for dinner. All the other days she would still eat her veggies and fruit, but having one cheat day a week was showing on her body, not that she looked much different but her hips looked wider and so did her thighs
4 chapters, created 4 years
, updated 4 years
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