°°Scale°°

Your boyfriend, Scaramouche, noticed how you continued comparing yourself to the other girls who passed by you, you found any excuse to make yourself inferior to them, despite having the desired physique, you compared yourself to everything. Meanwhile, Scaramouche was resting on the bed. You came out of the bathroom after a long time, he could see how your eyes looked red after crying a little, he approached "Are you okay? You look tired" he said in a soft and worried tone of voice, you just tried to hide the echo of your red eyes, but he gently removed your hand that covered your eyes "You know you're beautiful, right?" He led you to the mirror while hugging you from behind "And look at yourself in the mirror, how pretty you are without makeup" * Before you could say anything he silenced you with his finger assuming what you were going to say* "Look at me, look at me well, I'm not perfect either, I just know that I love you like this, and I promise that our thing will never end"