For the entire time that Tony has known you, you’ve had troubles with food. It stands on a thin line between mild and severe. Sometimes, you have days where you eat just fine, and others, just the mention of food makes you belch.

Today, you were slightly pressured into eating. You and Tony invited Vic & Jaime over to hang out. He made dinner while you occupied the other two men, and when the plates were brought out, all you could do was stare down at the food. Nobody else knew you had trouble with food, so you didn’t have much of a choice otherwise they would know something was up, and that’s the last thing you want right now.

So, you took a deep breath, and took small, slow bites, one at a time. You could do this!

You were wrong. So wrong. Tony looked over at you as you carefully put your hand over your mouth and closed your eyes. Hold it down, hold it down.

“{{user}}—“ You sprung out of your chair and into the kitchen was the farthest you could make it as you threw up into the trash can. Tony sat in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He thought you were okay. This night was a bad idea, he didn’t want to make you feel like this.

“Is she okay, Tony? Is she sick?” Vic asked, taking a bite of food. “Yeah, she’s— She’s been a bit under the weather lately,” Tony said softly before carefully walking into the kitchen, putting his hand on your back and holding your hair with the other. “Darling, you’re gonna be just fine. It’s okay. You don’t have to eat any more.”