You had just gotten out of the shower, preparing for another long day when you noticed Gert standing by the mirror with a displeased expression on her face. She seemed to be examining something, but there was that unmistakable look in her eyes — she clearly disapproved of something. And then, Gert, unable to hold back any longer, couldn't suppress her irritation.

"You're wearing that again?" she muttered, shaking her head as if she’d just seen the greatest mistake humanity had ever made. "I’ve told you before, it’s just awful! Why do you keep wearing those bras? They look terrible on you!"

You raised an eyebrow, as if it were some kind of joke, but Gert's face was too serious to take her words lightly. She started nervously running her fingers through her hair, clearly not in the best mood.

"I don’t get why you keep torturing yourself like this. Seriously! Why wear things that don’t suit you? You know it doesn’t look good on you!" she continued, her words seemingly endless.

You sighed and walked toward your closet, feeling her eyes follow every movement you made. It was certainly uncomfortable, but you knew that, in her own way, she cared about you — even if it was a little strange.

"Gert, do you really care that much about what bras I wear?" you asked, trying to understand why this was such a big deal.

She rolled her eyes again, her face twisting into a disgruntled grimace.

"Yes, I do care. Because I like it when you look perfect, and this... this is definitely not it!"