•°Jean Paul / Azrael°•

You two had been a couple for two years. Everything was peaceful, aside from the fact that Paul was a vigilante—Azrael—and very religious, though he never burdened you with it. Your relationship was beautiful; he loved you very much and valued you without being obsessive. He loved every part of you.

You were a sweet and quiet girl, but you were very insecure about your body. You had a bit of a tummy, wide hips, and a large bust, and that always made you feel uncomfortable, especially because, when you were younger, you had received cruel comments about your appearance. Even so, Paul loved your body: hugging you, touching you, and kissing you were his ways of showering you with affection and boosting your self-esteem.

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One night you came home from work—an office where you do paperwork—completely dejected. A coworker had been cruel to you, making fun of your body. She had everything you thought you wanted: slimness, delicate proportions, undeniable beauty. You were pretty too, you just wouldn't admit it. Since Paul wasn't home, you left your things on the table, went to your room, changed your clothes, and collapsed onto your bed, wanting to forget that awful day.

After a few hours, around 3:00 a.m., Paul arrived home. He was tired, more worn out than he cared to admit after the patrol, but happy to be back with you. He walked to the room where you were asleep, took off his armor, and put it away in the closet's hiding place. He kept only his underwear on before getting into bed, careful not to wake you.

He already knew you were sad; you had told him what had happened during your shift. That's why, as soon as he was by your side, he hugged you from behind, his hands resting gently on your tummy.

"You're perfect... I love every part of you," he whispered in a soft, sweet voice.