Mafia Imagines

47 - Acne

Imagine...

You were staring at the angry red splotches that decorated your cheeks in the mirror.

You were going out on your first date with the infamous mobster, Y/BF/N, and you had woke up with a terrible, un-hide-able breakout, and you were mere seconds from crying.

You had done everything by the book the past few days- no extra lollies, no trying new skin products, your normal skincare routine, yet here you were, staring at the acne that had just formed under your skin, along your jaw.

You didn't wear make-up much, so you had no idea how you were going to cover it.

"Maybe he won't notice..." So, going along with your morning routine of toner, moisturiser and SPF, you began to get ready.

~~~~

"You look beautiful," Y/bf/n mummers softly into your hair, when you embrace him at the door of your apartment. 

"Thanks," You mumble, trying to ignore the creeping insecurities that were gnawing away in your stomach.

"Oh, I got these for you," He offers you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, as you grin, taking them, bringing them to your nose to admire their beautiful scent. 

"Thank you!" Inviting him into your apartment, you quickly find a vase suitable to hold such beautiful flowers, placing them in the middle of your small dining room table, as y/bf/n admires photos you have hung up around the room.

"Are you ready?" You ask, holding your clutch as he nods, offering his hand.

~~~~~

"Gosh, this is delicious!" You grin, as you eat the pasta he ordered for you, his smile nearly as wide as yours.

"I'm glad you like it, darling." The way the simple pet name rolls so effortlessly off his lips causes you to smile, as your cheeks heat.

"Everything okay here, Mr Y/BF/N?" The waitress asks, her smile widening, and cheeks flushing when he turns his attention to the beautiful girl... with perfect skin.

"Yes, thank you." His tone changed from the sweet, gentle one he used with you, to a much blunter, colder one, but you didn't notice... all you could focus on was her perfect skin, with the insecurity bubbling more and more in your stomach.

Why couldn't I look like that? You wonder to yourself. Why do I have to have acne? why me? why can't i have good skin? why? whywhywhywhywhywhywhy-

"Y/n?" His tone knocks you abruptly from your prison of self loathing, as you offer a tight lipped smile.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" His tone is much softer, and as your eyes flicker through the empty restaurant (thanks to your date), you notice the waitress has walked back to the kitchen.

"I'm good," The lie falls effortlessly from your lips, and you pair it with a toothy grin. To most, your lie would be believed, but the gorgeous  man across from you sees right through your charade. 

"Y/n." His tone, although still gentle, holds a firmer tone- a tone of warning. Warning you to tell the truth.

"It's stupid," You mumble as you look at the silk tablecloth, refusing eye contact.