She Gained Everything She Lost

Chapter 1 - HOMECOMING

The key turned in the lock. Eren pushed the door open with his shoulder, the gym bag cutting into his skin. Twelve hours of iron and college lectures still weighed on him: his shirt clung to his body, the synthetic fabric trapping the heat like a second skin after his strict post-workout routine. The smell of sweat and gym rubber mixed with the asphalt scent from the street. All he wanted was a shower and a bed as soon as possible.

But the aroma of food that greeted him inside the apartment made him smile instinctively: eggs, bacon, pecorino.

"Mira, I'm home."

A quick rustle came from the living room, the sound of someone shifting on the couch. Then Mira's voice, sweet and a little uncertain: "W-Welcome back!"

Eren set his bag against the wall and headed toward the living room. He was tired, but not too tired to notice what he saw.

Mira was curled up on the couch, legs tucked beneath her. They had been roommates for two months, assigned by the campus housing office with that unpredictable logic that mixed names and majors without any apparent reason. He studied Engineering, she studied Literature, and in theory they shouldn't have had anything in common. In theory. Aside from the fact that she was a girl and he wasn't. But since his last name sounded like a girl's first name, the office had never caught the assignment error. The room was never meant to be co-ed.

Mira was the cutest and sweetest girl he had ever seen, even if she was a bit introverted.

She wore her gray flannel pajamas, the ones she put on whenever she had no intention of going out (which was pretty much always). Her black hair fell over her shoulders in messy, loose curls, tousled as usual, with a few strands slipping in front of her eyes. Her round glasses sat slightly crooked on her nose, as if she had put them on in a hurry. She was small and petite, barely five feet tall, and everything about her seemed made to be held in someone's arms and protected from the outside world.

But something was different about her compared to two months ago, something Eren was starting to notice.

When she had first moved in, Mira had been thin as a twig. All bones and skin, a girl who looked like she might break with a breath. Her jeans hung loose on her, her shirts draped softly over a body that seemed made of air. But now?

Now the pajamas fit her differently. It wasn't a dramatic change, nothing that jumped out at first glance, but it was there. Her cheeks were fuller, with a soft layer under her chin that hadn't been there before. Her hips pressed against the flannel fabric with a new roundness, plumper, more feminine. Her small, subtle breasts seemed to have taken on a fuller shape beneath her shirt. And when she stood up to greet him, her movements were slower and heavier, as if her body had gained a new weight. Her footsteps landed on the parquet with a soft thud that Eren didn't remember.

"I made carbonara," she said with that shy smile that lit up her eyes. "I knew you'd be back late from the gym, so I waited."

Eren raised an eyebrow. He hadn't told her what time he would be home. He never did. Yet she knew, just like she always knew everything about him, the schedule of his workouts, his favorite classes, exactly how he took his coffee. He had started noticing it after the first week: Mira watched him. She studied him. She recorded everything with a precision he found both unsettling and... exciting.

She was that kind of obsessive girl who had maybe taken a liking to him, or maybe developed a crush.

"You're an angel, Mira."

He sat down at the table. The plate she had prepared for him was perfectly calibrated: a post-workout portion, high in protein, lightly seasoned. She had clearly cooked for him, thinking about him while choosing the ingredients and measuring the amounts. What was left in the pan, all the rich fat from the carbonara, she had served onto her own plate without much thought. A mountain of pasta, easily double his portion, maybe more. Eren watched her eat all of it straight from the pot: her eyes stayed fixed on him, following every gesture, every bite, every movement of his hands. Mira's fork moved on autopilot, bite after bite, emptying the metal container as if she didn't even realize how much she was indulging. Only when she scraped the bottom did she pause for a moment, as if waking up, and she ran her tongue over her lips with a satisfied, slightly dazed expression.

The pasta was excellent, creamy, flavorful, loaded with guanciale.

"Fuck, this is insanely good," he murmured between bites. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and saw Mira's eyes follow the motion.

She blushed with pleasure, a soft pink coloring her full cheeks. "I'm glad you like it."

They ate almost in silence. Every now and then Eren looked up and caught her staring at his chest, his arms, the lines of his shoulders beneath the sweaty shirt. She quickly lowered her eyes, but her cheeks stayed flushed. She was so easy to read, so transparent. Like an open book, and Eren had always loved reading.

When he finished, Eren leaned back in his chair with a deep sigh. The damp shirt clung to him, outlining his pecs and abs. He stretched his arms over his head, letting the fabric ride up and reveal a strip of sculpted skin. He saw Mira swallow, saw her eyes lock onto him as if he were the only thing in the world that mattered.

"Long day?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Class, library, gym. I'm wiped." He rolled his shoulder with a grimace. "I'd kill for a massage."

Mira toyed with the hem of her shirt. The gesture pulled the fabric up over her belly, revealing a hint of soft flesh that spilled slightly over the waistband of her pants, leaving a thin red mark on her skin. She noticed and quickly tugged the shirt back down, but Eren had already seen. He had already registered that her belly was no longer flat.

"If you want... I can give you one," she said, her voice almost a whisper. Her hands trembled slightly, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt as if searching for something to hold on to.

Eren looked at her carefully. He let the silence stretch for a few seconds, watching the way she squirmed under his gaze. Her insecurity was almost palpable. She was so different from the girl who had moved in two months earlier, the one who had carried box after box with a smile. Now she always seemed to crave his approval.

"You know," he said at last, with a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "when you first got here you were a bit different. You carried box after box without breaking a sweat." He let his eyes slide slowly over her body so she could feel his gaze like a touch. "Now you seem more relaxed."

Mira blushed fiercely and looked down at her own belly. Her hands settled on her abdomen, fingers pressing into the soft flesh as if she could make it disappear with pressure alone.

"I know... I've overdone it with food lately. Between the anime I watch and exam stress..." she tried to justify herself, but her voice was weak and uncertain. "Yeah, too many snacks... You're right..."

Eren leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His hand found her knee and squeezed it gently, feeling the warmth of her skin through the pajama fabric.

"You don't have to justify yourself to me. If you don't care enough about yourself to stay in shape, it's just a shame." His voice was low and warm, but with a dark undertone she didn't catch.

Mira looked up, her dark eyes searching his with almost childlike anxiety. "I don't care about myself?" She paused, stunned, unable to deny it. She fell silent.

"Exactly, Mira. If you did, you wouldn't be gaining weight."

He left his hand on her knee for a few more seconds, feeling her body tremble slightly under his touch. Then he stood up, leaving a void she seemed to feel physically.

"Anyway, thanks for dinner. Really. Next time though, show some restraint, you were eating straight from the pan. You reminded me of a..." He didn't finish the sentence, though it was clear he meant she ate like a pig.

Eren got up to wash the dishes, leaving her at the table, stunned for a few seconds.

He felt her gaze on his back, his neck, his arms, and the vanilla scent of her body wash mixing with the warm kitchen air. When he turned around to dry his hands, she was still there, very close. Too close. Her big glasses still crooked on her nose.

"So how was your day?" he asked, changing the subject. "Tell me everything."

Mira brightened a little. "Nothing special. I skipped class and watched Toradora!. I almost finished two seasons... it's beautiful. It's about two people who seem one way but are really another. Taiga is tiny and feisty but deep down she's fragile, and Ryuuji is a big softie..."

She spoke with passion, gesturing animatedly. Eren only half listened. Instead he watched how her body moved: her fuller breasts pressing against the flannel, the way her soft belly shifted when she laughed, the slight jiggle of her thighs when she got excited. On her petite frame, every curve had a precise weight, a presence he couldn't ignore. He found it arousing.

Her hands moved through the air, drawing invisible shapes, and he noticed how her arms had become softer, less defined. He noticed how her face flushed when she talked about the romantic scenes, how her lips formed words he wasn't really hearing.

When she finished, Eren nodded slowly. "Sounds interesting. Maybe we can watch it together sometime."

Mira's face broke into a huge, almost disbelieving smile. "Really? You'd like that?"

"Sure." Eren moved closer, and his hand rose almost without thinking, brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers. He lingered on the new softness, on the warm skin that blushed at his touch. "I like it when you talk like that. You light up. It's obvious how much you love anime."

Mira held her breath. Her body seemed to lean toward him, and for a moment Eren thought she would reach up to kiss him. Instead she lowered her gaze, cheeks red, a lock of black hair falling in front of her eyes. She didn't move it.

"We could start tomorrow if you want..." she suggested timidly. "If you don't have other plans. Or tonight."

Eren smiled, and this time his smile held something hungrier, more deliberate. "Tonight is perfect."

They sat down on the couch again. Mira settled closer than necessary, her warm body pressing lightly against his arm. She felt soft against him, and he could sense every curve. His hand found her shoulder and stayed there, feeling the heat of her plush skin through the flannel pajamas.

As the screen lit up, Eren thought about how everything was progressing, about how she was getting lazy. He hadn't been particularly interested in her until this moment of realization, that by being with him, she was changing for the worse.

And Mira, beside him with her heart pounding and her body trembling, still had no idea how much staying in his company would mark her.