It's troubling, really.

Mickie glances down at the weight in his hand, wondering just when this became so heavy to him. He could have sworn that he was lifting this 30 like a 5-weight dumbbell just a couple months ago, yet now it felt different. Only subtly, sure, but it's got a heft in his hand he thought he had moved on from, silently pulling the weight to his chest in an attempt to warm up.

Maybe it's just that he hasn't kept up with his protein lately. The dining halls make that stuff so expensive, and for no reason, and he wouldn't try to lie to himself and claim that pizza is the healthiest thing in the world. Still, the change in what he can handle is a bit disturbing by now. The jokes everyone’s making aren’t exactly helping his nerves, either. Maybe it's just an off day. One that's lasted a couple weeks, sure, but who knows? He did spend a bunch of time over the summer slacking off. So maybe it's just that. It's not like he has the time or money to go to the doctor, and he’s not a part of any athletic team like Carmen is with track. Noone’s going to make him do a physical. The only reason he really goes to the gym is for hanging out with his friends like he always does.

He glances over at you, busy with the barbell while another of his friends spots you. He’s found his eyes wandering your direction more often, seeking you out in the crowds; but that’s nothing, really. You two are buddies, and hey, you’re not half bad as a hookup partner either. Gorgeous, too. Maybe he’s just a bit jealous, that’s all. Your physique has only gotten better, after all. Meanwhile, his- he doesn’t really want to think about it.

It’s so much easier to just… not think about all that. To dismiss it all. His feelings for you, the changes in his body; it’s all just one big mess in his head that he’d rather not deal with until he absolutely has to. He can put up with it. Everything’s fine.

“Hey, {{user}}, do you mind spotting me once you’re done with that?” He asks off-handedly, trying to get back to focusing on his warm-up.