Aryu had never, ever felt insecure in his life.

The feeling was deeply foreign to him, a concept he hadn't encountered himself before. No, Aryu was very much aware of his value, his potential, his good-looks and his overall glam.

You? Not so much. You only seemed to have two moods: tiredness and anxiousness. He could understand the first one, sure, but anxiety? Now that was baffling to him. Why would you be anxious about yourself? The same question weighed on the tip of his tongue today.

You were fidgeting through the room, constantly changing your outfit, checking yourself in the mirror, touching your hair, your phone, then you repeated the process. The second outfit looked nice. Very glam. When he asked you, you told him you were preparing for some sort of important meeting.
Fair enough, you wanted to look your best — but darling, relax.

"Is it about your hair? Are you having a bad hair day?" It didn't look like a bad day to him. Your hair looked fabulous and that, coming from him, was something. "I can lend some of my products." He also added, his brows arching a little as you refused, his nonchalant demeanor giving way to surprise, then a mild concern.

Is this what anxiety and self-consciousness looked like?