"Are you... expecting?"
"...No."
"Oh, well, it just looks like it."
Dead silence as I stare down at my hands.
"I hope I didn't offend you. You really shouldn't be offended."
Thanks, bitch face, for making me feel bad, and then worse, and then like I should feel bad for feeling bad. It's a puffy shirt, sort of... I guess, but mind your own fucking business, don't comment on my goddamn weight, and fuck right off about telling me how I should feel about your rude prying words.
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