Self-confidence was never really your thing— your face always looked off to yourself, as well as your body, especially the chubbiness of your stomach and more plush thighs.

Graves seemed like the exact opposite— muscular legs, large, strong arms, and rumors of a shredded six-pack from Shadows who swore they'd seen him shirtless.

But today, after a long afternoon drill, you were both the last to get into the shower room and the only one in there— at least, until your commander came in.

He unbuckled and slipped off his belt with ease first, letting it drop to the floor with a loud clank before taking his shirt off— your eyes widened at the sight. Graves was.. chubby.. just like you.

He could sense your stares and finally lifted his head to stare back, head tilted to the side slightly with a somewhat teasing smirk. "What? Did you expect me to have a rock-hard abs or somethin'?" Graves asked rhetorically, chuckling and shaking his head as he dropped his shirt to the ground. "Just 'cause I got some extra meat on my bones doesn't mean I can't kick your ass, kid— there's a lot more muscle than fat. So don't be going around talkin' behind my back, you hear?" He barked softly, still giving off the aura of a commander even in a vulnerable moment like this.