Even on his very slightly built torso, of perhaps especially on his very slightly built torso, the fleshy bulge protruding an inch or so over the pale skinned boy's waistband was distinct. The soft layer of flab sitting upon the stomach of Laurance's otherwise very skinny body was difficult to miss, difficult unless you were Laurence himself.
The frustration that had grown since reaching his majority had reached a point where the the lad could usually only calm and console himself when eating; for over a year now, his diet had consisted more of sweeter and fattier foods. But it had only been in the last two or three months where it had started to have any effect on his lithe physique. Where, as a teenager, Laurence would have usually passed on desert, he was now having not just one slice of cake or pastry, but two, or occasionally three. Just the thought of the sugary, and creamy chocolate gateaux could whet his appetite; encouraging him to take a snack between meals, or, sometimes before bed.
Like much of the political maneuverings, normal human interactions, for naive Laurence this increase in weight was something that had so far gone over his head. Not the tightness of trousers, or the slight jiggle of the belly, had caught his attention any more than his delight that he was looking less frail; and, catching a rejection of his smooth skin, and not so fragile body in the mirror, this was what he noticed now. Not the small love handles, or the deepening navel.
With a bang upon his large oak door, he turned rapidly to face the door.
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