The rain pattered against the apartment windows, while somewhere in the background the television played softly, unattended.

Simon sat half-reclined on the sofa, one arm casually draped over the back, still in a black shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly damp from the shower. The warm light from the small floor lamp bathed the apartment in a golden-orange glow.

You stood in front of the mirror in the hallway. You had only meant to take off your jacket. But your gaze lingered. On your stomach. Your hips. Your arms.

Too soft. Too wide. Too much.

You pulled the fabric of your shirt down slightly and grimaced. "I look fat." The words came softly. Almost as an afterthought. As if you hoped no one had heard them. Of course, Simon had.

He slowly looked up at you. For a moment, he said nothing. Just watched as you pulled your arms around yourself, as if trying to make yourself smaller.