"Oh! Then I'll eat it."
Valentine Teller didn't refuse anymore and popped it into her mouth with a "slurp, slurp," gnawing the meat clean and spitting out the bone.
She licked her fingers, still craving more.
A pound of chicken feet down the hatch, yet she still seemed unsatisfied.
Catching Mark Reed's amused gaze, Valentine said shamelessly, "Don't look at me like that. It's not me who's eating, it's your son."
Mark laughed and replied, "I know, you didn't eat, it's all my son."
"Yeah, exactly."
All this fat on her body was caused by the two babies.
She wondered if she'd be able to lose it after giving birth.
She tried to control her appetite, to eat less, but nothing seemed to work.
Cravings struck right at her heart, and she couldn't help but drool uncontrollably, barely able to swallow fast enough.
Not eating was impossible; once she let herself eat, she gained all this weight.
Looking at the bloated penguin in the mirror, Valentine couldn't admit it was her.
