”Hi! Can you do a scenario on how Leo and Ken would react if you were required to wear a skirt for your job and they know how insecure you are about your legs and thighs because your not exactly skinny like other girls.” –anonymous
“What are you talking about? It fits perfectly.”
“But doesn’t it show my legs too much?” There was a sigh from Ken, more wistful than anything, and you heard him get up from where he sat at the edge of your bed.
“What do you mean?” he asked. You felt him stand beside you, and you almost turned to face him but stopped when your eyes were at his shoulder. You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the face, feeling both petty and insecure.
“My thighs are a little fat; it doesn’t look good.” You mumbled to his shoulder. From your peripheral, you saw his head tilt and your eyes travelled further down his arm.
“Jagiya… there’s not a single layer of fat in your legs, or even your entire body.” You knew he had more to say, but he stopped talking when you shook your head. You were staring at his hand before, but now your eyes were on the ceiling, oncoming tears blurring your vision.
“Compared to everyone else, yes I am fat,” was what you choked out. A hand slid onto the back of your neck, and gently pulled your head down so you faced Ken. His lips were pursed and eyes sad. You would’ve worried that he was crying too if it wasn’t for the lack of tears in his eyes—but the sadness was there.
“And who’s comparing you?” he questioned, voice hard like stone. “Everyone,” you wanted to say, but the lump in your throat was too thick. Ken seemed to understand though, as he usually did, and his voice lowered, becoming softer, “nobody’s opinion matters more than yours, ______. If you want to lose or gain weight, I don’t mind. Your body is perfect anyway.”
You remember all those times you’d stared at your body in the mirror and cursed it. But there were other times when you’d stared and turned at different angles, admiring the curves and dimensions of your body. On those days you strutted rather than just treading in public, and if there were any judgmental stares, you didn’t notice them, because they didn’t matter to you on those days.
The tears became too many for your eyelids to hold, and they slipped out unhindered when you shut your eyes, head falling forward. You really wished every day was like those days, where stares were like wind from a butterfly’s wings, rather than daggers pricking your skin.
A long kiss was pressed to your forehead. Your hands gripped at Ken’s shirt from the sides, and again he seemed to understand what you couldn’t say.
“Do you want to be alone?” he asked softly. You pressed your head to his chest and nodded, feeling the fabric of his shirt rub against his skin. “I’ll be in the living room.” He whispered, before slipping away from your grip and shutting the door after he left.
You didn’t sob when you were alone; but your knees did give out and allowed yourself to sit on the floor as silent tears freely slipped down your cheeks. Some of them landed on your skirt and as you looked down at it, you wondered how you had had those good days—if maybe you were thinner back then. But no, you’re sure you haven’t gained any weight since the last ‘good day’. You could walk out and strut in those streets if you so wished. You could feel as confident as yu felt on those days;
So then why can’t you now.
When you emerged from the room, you were dressed in one of your really short shorts and one of Ken’s shirts, which went past said shorts. With small steps, you reached the living room to find Ken scrolling through his phone. He must’ve heard you approaching, because he looked up immediately and you felt some breath return to you when his eyes couldn’t pull away from you. Your swollen eyes squinted slightly with a nearly invisible smile, and a smile formed on his own face. Eyes still on you, he set his phone aside and held his hands out as an invitation.
You gladly took it, nearly falling into his lap and sinking into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly, before a hand drifted down to run over your thigh. You almost stopped it, but then you saw the way he was looking at your body and felt the tears coming back—but for a different reason this time.
The two of you stayed like that for hours, eventually switching to a lying position, and you were beginning to fall asleep.
“______-yah,” you hummed in acknowledgment, but when you didn’t open your eyes, he nudged you. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and he ran a hand through your hair.
“I just want you to take care of your body, ok?”
You couldn’t find the voice to say anything, so you only nodded, burying your face into his chest so he wouldn’t see the tears once again in your eyes.
