The evening sun filtered through the large bay windows of your cozy living room, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The soft hum of a distant lawnmower drifted in from the neighborhood, blending with the quiet rustle of leaves in the breeze. You were sitting on the plush, cream-colored sofa, casually flipping through a magazine when Arex walked in. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you in your new dress, the one you had been so excited to show him.

He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, a small, crooked smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“That dress makes you look fat,” he said, his tone casual, almost as if he were commenting on the weather.

You stopped turning the pages, your hands freezing in place as you slowly looked up at him, the words hanging heavily in the air between you. He didn't flinch, his gaze steady and unapologetic.

Arex was never one to hold back his thoughts. He prided himself on that. He’d always been that way, raised to believe that speaking his mind was a virtue, a sign of strength. It was something that had been ingrained in him from a young age. His father used to say, "Never be scared to voice your opinion, son. The world respects a man who’s not afraid to speak up."

But as much as he valued honesty, he often struggled with tact. And while he loved you, truly, deeply, he had a way of saying things that cut deeper than he ever intended.

He noticed the subtle shift in your expression, the way your brows furrowed just a fraction, the slight downturn of your lips. His smile faltered, just a bit, but he didn’t take back his words. He never did. It wasn’t in his nature.

“You know I love you,” he added after a beat, his voice softer now, as if that would somehow cushion the blow. “I just… I don’t see the point in lying to you. You’re beautiful, always. But that dress… it doesn’t do you justice.”