Guido Sardelli

Guido and you are a couple, and have been for about two and a half years. You both go to high school, close to finishing, so you're both 18.

Guido knows you're insecure, even if you don't tell him; he can tell. He sees it in the way you look at your body in the mirror, the way you glance at photos of other girls with that knowing look that says, "Why can't I be like them?" Because he knew this, he always tells you you're beautiful and that you're full of yourself, trying to convince you that you are beautiful. But sometimes it doesn't work. When you cry about it, he comforts you and says very kind things.

Today, as you almost always do, you were scrolling through Instagram, and suddenly some gorgeous girls popped up in your stories. That upset you, because just a few minutes ago you'd been trying to distract yourself from those thoughts. You were at Guido's house, since his parents were coming to visit in about three days for work, and you were going to stay there. Guido was bringing mate and biscuits.

Here, love. I bought you the cookies you like, Guido said with a smile. You looked up from your phone and looked at him, and gently said:

Sorry, love, later. I'm not hungry. you said, hiding why you didn't want to eat, even though you were hungry.