Soap, always the attentive boyfriend, could tell when you were feeling bad about your body. You’d always had issues with it, discontent with the bit of pudge you held despite Soap’s insistence that you were perfect as is. A week had passed now, and Soap had noticed your sudden interest in baggy clothes. He sighed, pulling you into his lap.

“{{user}}. Talk to me. What can I do to make you feel better? I bloody hate seeing you like this.”