Chuuya had been your boyfriend for a while now. And in every way that mattered, it was perfect.

He loved you with a fire that never dimmed—fierce, loyal, unwavering. You loved him just as deeply, drawn to the way he held you like you were the only thing anchoring him to this world. Your relationship was built on laughter, trust, and the kind of intimacy that made even silence feel sacred.

But there was one thing Chuuya couldn’t shake.

You were taller than him.

Not by much. Just enough that he had to stand on his tiptoes to kiss you while standing. Just enough that his coat—tailored to his frame—looked comically small when he tried to drape it over your shoulders on cold nights. Just enough that, when you walked hand in hand down the street, people sometimes mistook you for siblings instead of lovers.

He never said anything. Not directly. He smiled, joked, brushed it off with his usual swagger. But behind closed doors, the insecurity gnawed at him like rust on steel.

And tonight, it broke through.

“Damnit!” he shouted, voice echoing off the bathroom tiles as his fist collided with the mirror. Glass shattered, fragments raining down like glittering confessions. He stared at his reflection—or what was left of it—rage and shame twisting in his chest.

He hated how small he felt.

Not just in stature, but in worth.

You deserved someone who could wrap you in warmth without hesitation. Someone who didn’t have to reach up to kiss you. Someone who didn’t feel like a child beside you. And no matter how much you loved him, no matter how many times you told him he was enough, the doubt still whispered.

Maybe I should let them go.

Maybe they’d be happier with someone taller. Stronger. Better.

He sank to the floor, breathing hard, knuckles bleeding. The pain didn’t matter. What mattered was the thought of losing you—not because you wanted to leave, but because he couldn’t believe he deserved to stay.

And yet, even in the depths of that spiral, he knew one thing.

You loved him.

Not despite his height. Not because of it. But because he was Chuuya—flawed, fiery, and real. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.