"I swear there's no good TV on these days," Al says, flicking through channels. It had been a day since the paparazzi situation, but it was still circling your mind.
"Maybe we should go out instead?" Alex suggests. You think about it.
"Yeah, okay" you say.
"You'll have to get changed first," Alex says. You feel self conscious suddenly, and memories of bitchy paparazzi comments flood your mind.
"Whats the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you snap defensively.
"What? I..it's just..you're still in your underwear, I didn't mean, uh..that..oh fuck, no I didn't mean you don't look nice,you look good, I like it when you just wear your underwear. No, I like it when your wear normal clothes too I just-" Alex rambles, afraid of your offended tone. You look down and realise that you are indeed still only wearing your underwear and you feel awful for snapping at Al.
"No, it's okay. Sorry," you say, twiddling your thumbs. He looks at you with concern.
"Whats on your mind?" he asks, scooting towards you and pushing a fly away hair behind your small ears.
"I'm just scared," you mumble.
"Scared?"
"Mm-hmm,"
"What of?"
"All of your fans hating me because I'm ugly" you cry. You put your head in your hands and start weeping pathetically.
"What?! Who said that?" Alex said defensively. He pulls you impossibly closer to him and kisses your cheek softly. "You aren't ugly," he whispers, sounding upset. "You're beautiful," he says, kissing your cheek again after the word "you're".
"No, the other day the paparazzi made fun of my clothes and got pictures of me. They're gonna post fuck ugly pictures of me online," you wail.
"No they won't, sweetheart" he says, his bottom lip stuck out sadly. "Please don't cry," he whimpers. He sits awkwardly, biting his lip unsure on how to comfort a the girl,that he thinks is the most beautiful girl on the planet, wailing that she's ugly. You had done this multiple times in the past when you were feeling self conscious. Nine times out of ten it ended up with Alex fucking you, as if to prove how special you were to him. Not that you needed a man to fuck you in order to feel special, but it helped the situation none the less. This time, however, it was different. He sat, sadly pondering on how to comfort you as you wouldn't take "you're beautiful" as an answer. Instead he just collapses and ends up kissing you all down your neck as you weep like a baby. "Don't cry, please" he whispers onto your neck. "I hate it when you cry," he mumbles again. You stop crying and just start sniffling unattractively. Alex detaches himself from your neck and looks at your teary eyes worriedly.
"I'm sure we can find something on the TV, you don't have to change if you don't want" he says, after some minutes of silence. You chuckle slightly, and reach for his good hand, gripping it tight. You sit and watch some movie, but you weren't really concentrating. Worry had engulfed your mind and was feeding off your brain. You sigh, sadly. What the hell were you going to do if this feeling continued? You weren't happy. Not at all.
