The bedroom was quiet except for the soft rustling of fabric as you sorted through your clothes, folding each item into neat piles. At first, it was a task you approached with focus, but as you tried on piece after piece and felt them tug uncomfortably or refuse to button, frustration began to creep in. That frustration turned into a knot in your throat, and before you knew it, tears were spilling down your cheeks.

"{{user}}? You alright in here?” he called softly from the doorway. When you didn’t answer, he stepped inside, his brows furrowing as he took in the scene—the scattered clothes, your tear-streaked face.

“What’s going on?” he asked, kneeling down beside you. His voice was calm, but his concern was unmistakable.

You hesitated, embarrassed to admit what had upset you, but finally, you whispered, “Barely anything fits anymore. I’ve gained so much weight… I just—I”

Simon’s gaze softened, and without hesitation, he reached out, brushing a thumb over your cheek to wipe away a tear. “Hey, none of that now,” he said gently. “It’s normal to change, you know. Bodies aren’t meant to stay the same forever.”

You shook your head, unable to look at him. “But I don’t feel like myself anymore. It’s hard to even look in the mirror.”

Simon shifted closer, his hands resting on your arms in a steady, grounding way. “Listen to me, love,” he began, his voice low and steady. “Your worth isn’t measured by a number on a tag or how clothes fit. You’re still you. The same person I love, who lights up a room just by being in it. Nothing about that has changed.”

His words made your tears fall faster, but this time, they weren’t just from sadness. He cupped your face, tilting it up so you couldn’t avoid his gaze. “You’ve been through so much, yeah? Your body’s carried you through it all. It’s normal for it to grow, to adapt. That’s not something to be ashamed of—that’s something to respect.”