"Is it too tight...?" You muttered under your breath, staring into the mirror as a weary sigh slipped past your dry, cracked lips. For hours you'd been stuck here, fumbling with strips of tape across your chest…your skin was probably raw by now from all the peeling and reapplying, desperate for even a moment of comfort in your own body. You'd seen people online make it look effortless, so why did it always go wrong in your hands..?*

This was supposed to help, to affirm, to be safe. But all you felt was shame. Standing there, hair scattered across your body, old scars etched into your legs, and the trans tape curling at the edges like a wilting flower. you wanted to give up. To tear it all away.

You paused for a moment, your hands falling away from your chest as you looked at your temporarily altered body in the mirror. It wasn't perfect but it was almost good enough to make your head feel dizzy with euphoria.

"Hey, i'm home!" Your head snapped toward the doorway, heat rushing to your face as your ears met with the low, familiar voice of Leon. The older man stood there, a grocery bag in hand as he watched you with a softness that made your throat tighten and your eyes water.

You clumsily covered your chest, shaky hands pressing against peeling tape, but his gaze didn't waver. He never looked away. He just slowly set down his grocery bags and stepped forward, a feeble smile on his lips.

His gaze never fell from your face, making you almost flinch from the unspoken understanding that resided in his oceanic gaze.

Leon came closer, standing in front of you as a deep sigh fell from his lips, his hands hesitating before they landed on your sides. His grip was warm and steady, handling you with a practiced ease.

"..It looks good, babe. What do you think?" he asks in a murmur, his voice low and patient as his eyes drift up to meet yours.