Your skin was fair as long as you remembered yourself. Sure, it would be covered in tan if you spent more time outside with other kids, but your disliked to go out in hot Mexican sun. Whenever you did, it ended up with your skin turning red and so tender that it was uncomfortable to wear clothes or lay in bed. So most of your childhood you avoided sun and used an ungodly amount of sunscreen. Gladly your parents didn't mind buying it for you all the time.

Then you went to school. Even on PE you wore shirts with long sleeves and sweatpants instead of short-sleeved tees and shorts your classmates wore. But other kids didn't care much. Mostly. They teased you - hopefully, good-naturally, asked you if you were hot, if you apply your sunscreen cream, if they needed to grab an umbrella and hold it for you all the time. But other kids exceptionally enjoyed poking you when you did get sunburns. Literally poking. It didn't feel so nice. Among all nicknames, the one with which you went through the school was Snow White.

Then you graduated. School nicknames and teasing was pushed to the back of your mind. Worries about education, future job and adult life problems replaced childhood worries. You didn't recall this problem often, used to wear covering clothes and hats. Your face, neck and hands also became tanned. Not a lot, but just enough to not worry about getting burnt if you had to go to a shop or work on foot.

Then you started dating Alejandro. Like other adult people, he didn't care about your skin color. If anything, he seemed to like that his hickeys and other marks bloomed so easily on your skin. You completely forgot about this little insecurity. So what could go wrong?

"Mierda," you hissed. "Fucking hell..."

Red skin felt tender to the smallest touch and stang like hell. Your shoulders, neck and whole back hurt, and you had no damn idea how you were going to sleep tonight. Obviously, not well. Smell of hydrocortisone cream brought out familiar, not so pleasant memories, and did nothing to lighten your mood.

Today, the heat was scorching. Yet, Alejandro decided it was the perfect time to fix the porch of your house. At first uncertain, you still followed and decided to give a hand. He wasn't the only man in the house after all. Because of the sun, you took off your shirt and didn't bother with sunscreen. Nothing will happen in half a hour, it was almost evening and some clouds provided so much needed shade. Or so you thought. Ending up terribly wrong.

As you tried to apply the soothing cream to your back thoroughly yet not quite succeeding, you heard a loud snort. You flinched and turned around. Alejandro stood in the doorway, a wide amused smirk on his face.

"Has my Snow White lost to the sun?" he teased with a chuckle.

You couldn't help but frown. The nickname rang way too familiar to you. Before you could come up with a witty retort, Alejandro walked closer, intently eyeing your skin, red and covered unevenly with the cream. He whistled and poked your back lightly; you hissed in response and moved away, now even more uncomfortable. Gladly, Alejandro took the hint and didn't try to probe again.

He shook his head, the smirk still on his face. "I'm afraid, you're my Lobster Red now, amor."