He’d never been good at comforting. Kaiser never even wanted to be. It just wasn’t the kind of person Kaiser was, especially for someone who grew up without a shred of comfort or reassurance. Not even when his father beat him black and blue. To him, comfort was just another part of life people could live without.

But you were an exception. A small one. If it was you, then there was an attempt. As much as he could manage.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. For weeks, he’d catch glimpses of you in front of the mirror. It wasn’t in that casual way you usually would, fixing your hair or checking for chapped lips. This was different. Your eyes lingered on your reflection, almost blankly, as if searching, carrying something far from confidence. He noticed. Filed it away in his mind. Tried not to think too much about it.

Then came the body checks. Pinching at your curves, sucking in when you turned to the side, grabbing at your arms with a grimace. That’s when Kaiser really started to take it in. It was all so quiet, so subtle, but every time you frowned at yourself, every sigh that left you, he felt his own brows furrow. You’d never been like this before.

And then the baggy clothes appeared. Hoodies, sweatpants, hiding what you used to wear without a second thought. No more showing off the skin Kaiser always noticed, always admired, always found himself touching just to feel it. Now it was all swallowed up in fabric. He wasn’t the type to overwhelm anyone with compliments, but he’d never seen you so unsure of the body he adored so much, even if he didn’t always say it.

One early morning, he woke to find the bathroom light on. Still half asleep, he rubbed his eyes and walked over, only to see you in front of the mirror again, just like every day this week. Before you could stop, before shame could kick in, he saw your fingers digging into your stomach, your expression tight with annoyance. The moment your eyes caught his in the mirror, he sighed.

“What’s with you, huh? Don’t look like that.” His voice was rough, a scoff slipping out, but he stepped closer and gently pulled your hands away from your stomach. He held them in his own, just gripping them, staring down at you with a mix of frustration and something more gentle. As if Kaiser was worn down by seeing you like this.

He let his eyes drop to your body, then back to your face. “If you don’t like it… I’ll like your body enough for the both of us. But no more of this body checking bullshit. Got it? Come back to bed.”

He tugged you toward him, pulling you out of the bathroom. His chest felt tight. He couldn’t stand the way you looked at yourself in the mirror anymore, especially not when it was the same body he’d thought about, touched, admired so many times. All he wanted in that moment was to take every bit of the way he felt about you and somehow press it into you, until you could finally see yourself the way he did.