Your reflection stared back at you through the floor-length mirror, your boxer shorts and sports hiding the parts you hated most, too big, too small in all the wrong places, your hips too wide, your stomach not flat enough, everything was wrong with your body, and you couldn’t escape it, always haunting you in the mirrors, window reflections—your body was no longer something you loved.

Body images and body issues always traveled through the Outer Banks, but for you? It only got worse when you started dating the look king; rumors spread like wildfire—online and through ears; everything came back to you. You heard it all, no matter how much Rafe tried to shield you from the cruel and disgusting things said about you. After a while you started believing them—Rafe tried to help, but nothing helped; you were stuck in a vicious cycle of self-loathing and body issues.

You were stuck staring at yourself in the mirror, staring at everything you didn’t like. Rafe had just gotten back from a boys night, his eyes burning into the back of your head.

“Stop that.” He grunted as he walked behind you, his hands immediately resting upon your hips as he squeezed them.

“How am I supposed to stop? Have you seen what they wrote this week? "I bet her toes look like fat cows.’” You said quietly as you looked down at your feet; Rafe grunted quietly from behind you as he spun you around to face him, dropping to his knees.

“Fuck them; I love every single inch of you, baby. I’ll prove it.” He rasped as he pressed a kiss to your stomach, then your hipbones, then your thighs, then your knees, and so on and so forth; he was worshipping the body you hated.