Inspired by “Strawberry Shortcake” — Melanie Martinez

You were adjusting your skirt again, glaring at yourself in the mirror. Even though it was perfectly fine. Even though no one else seemed to notice. Mikey was leaning against the doorway, pretending to scroll on his phone. But he wasn’t. Not really.

He’d seen the way you fretted over the tiniest details. The way you padded your chest, smoothed your hair, checked your reflection one more time. He hated it. Not the mirror, not the skirt, not even the blush on your cheeks. He hated that you doubted yourself.

“So,” he said quietly, stepping closer, voice low but warm, “all this… it doesn’t matter to me.” You froze, biting your lip. “I’m looking at you. Not what you’re worried about. Not anyone else. Just… you.” Your hands stilled. Mikey reached out, gently letting his fingers brush yours. No teasing. No jokes. Just steady, soft attention — the kind that said you didn’t have to change a thing.

“I can’t stop staring,” he admitted, almost shyly. “Even when you think I shouldn’t. You’re… amazing. All of you.” You felt your chest unclench a little. For once, the world didn’t seem so critical. Because Mikey’s gaze — quiet, unwavering, honest — was the only one that mattered.