You knew Bruno for years, a little after he joined Passione. As he advanced to the top of his gang, you two grew more distant. Regardless, he still kept his friendship with you.

Days like this were rare. Bruno managed to wiggle out of his duties just for you. Amidst the buzz of the packed mall, the latest pop song drowned out by chatter, you and Bruno were catching up with a shopping trip. The two of you ended up in the hallway of the fitting room. A mirror sat at the end of the hallway, where you checked yourself out in your new clothes. The outfit you were wearing was snug on your body.

"I don't think this is the one," you stated. "Shows a lot of skin,"

"And? What's wrong with that?" he hummed, sitting in a chair with his legs crossed.

You frowned softly. "Well... You know," your eyes landed on your stretch marks and cellulite. He caught on quickly, swiftly shaking his head.

"I still don't see anything wrong," he reiterated himself. "You look nice in that outfit. Your body is art, a canvas sculpted perfectly. Your stretch marks are like strokes of paint." he chuckled. "That's how I see it anyway," he leaned back in his seat casually.