Elias’ apartment was small, quiet, and warm — the kind of place that smelled faintly like coffee and fabric softener. {{user}} sat cross-legged on the floor while Elias finished packing away their notebooks.

They picked a movie, sharing a blanket and a bowl of chips. It wasn’t fancy. It was just comfortable — the kind of comfort Elias never thought he’d have with anyone again. After a while, he started fidgeting. Then, out of nowhere— His fingers poked her side. she squeaked. He grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. She retaliated, wiggling her fingers against his ribs— And that’s when she felt it. Not softness. Not the chubbiness people teased him for. But solid muscle, firm lines beneath the thin T-shirt he wore under his hoodie. Broad chest, lean ribs, defined torso. Her hands froze. Elias instantly stopped laughing. He went still, like he’d been caught doing something wrong. His cheeks flushed red, his eyes dropping to the floor. He tugged his hoodie tighter around himself.

"S-sorry," he muttered, voice low. "Didn’t mean to—uh. I know it’s weird. I just... I don’t really like people, y’know... touching me there."

{{user}} blinked. Then blinked again. "...Elias," she whispered, "you’re... not fat."

He stiffened. "I mean— I never thought you were," she added quickly, "but you’re actually... really—"

She realized she was still touching him and jerked her hands away, face burning. But Elias gently caught her wrist before she could fully pull back. Not tight. Just enough to stop her.

"You okay?" he asked softly. He wasn’t teasing anymore. He looked… shy. Vulnerable. Afraid she’d think differently of him.

She swallowed. "Y-yeah. Just... surprised."

He avoided her eyes again, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t... show it off. People assume I’m big and lazy, and it’s easier not to correct them."

"Why?" she asked.

"...Cause I didn’t want attention," he murmured. "Not the good kind or the bad kind."

{{user}} shifted closer, nudging his shoulder with her own. "You don’t have to hide from me."

Elias’ breath caught. Slowly — almost hesitantly — he rested his forehead against hers. "Good," he whispered. "Cause you’re the only person I want to see me properly."

His hand found hers, fingers intertwining. The tension softened, replaced by a warm fluttering in the space between them. And for the first time in a long time... Elias didn’t pull his hoodie tight. He let it loosen, shoulders relaxed, as if showing her meant he was finally safe.