Chapter Twenty Seven

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Aurora

It was a Saturday night and Dean had arranged for us all to go down the pub. It was a rare day off for Sam and the lads had been wanting Harlow and me to meet their friend Drew, who was in college with Dean and Tom. Sam had spent the day at my house, the two of us trying to make the most of his time off, but that meant he was there to witness my meltdown when I got ready. It had been happening a lot more lately, ever since the jeans incident. I found myself staring in the mirror for hours on end, picking at all the things I hated about myself. I knew it wasn't healthy but I had fallen down the rabbit hole and there was no climbing out.

Sam and I were cuddling under the covers. I was putting off getting ready as I knew what the consequences would be. I let out a groan and started wiggling from Sam's grasp but his arm only tightened around my waist.

"Where d'ya think you're off?" he asked.

"I need to get ready," I told him.

"Ya look lush as ya are," he said matter-of-factly.

"Don't be so daft, I'm wearing your clothes for a start-"

"And ya look good in them," he smirked, burying his head in the crook of my neck, lips brushing against the sensitive skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"-and I've got no makeup on," I finished.

"I like you with no makeup," he muttered.

"Stop taking the piss," I mumbled.

"I'm not. I mean it, Rora. Ya look fine as ya are," he huffed.

"Alreet, I'm still changing though," I told him, wriggling out of his embrace and taking a seat at my dresser. I pulled my makeup bag out of my drawer and began carefully applying it, starting with my dream matte mouse foundation as always.

"I wish ya'd listen to me, aye," he sighed, dragging himself out of bed and standing behind me. "I think you're bloody stunnin'."

"You're me boyfriend, you've got to say that," I whispered as I bronzed my face, leaning my head back against his torso.

"I mean it, Scarl," he said, brushing my hair from my face. "And I'll keep telling ya till ya believe us."

"I love you." Although I didn't believe his words, I couldn't stop the wide grin that took occupancy on my face.

"I love you, too," he replied. I tilted my head backwards and pouted my lips for a kiss, which he gladly granted. "What're ya gan wear?"

"M'not sure yet," I shrugged. Watching him in the mirror, I could see the cogs turning in his head as he strode over to my wardrobe and started shuffling around in it.

"What about this?" he asked, holding up an emerald green crop top.

"No, I look like a bloody whale in that," I protested. He frowned but didn't comment.

"This one?" He held up another crop top, this time a deep blue one with thin straps. "It's definitely my favourite one of yours."

"My arms look massive in it," I told him in deflation. His shoulders dropped in defeat as he stared at me through the mirror.

"Rory, what's gan on with ya lately?" he frowned, folding his arms across his chest.

"Nothing," I muttered, avoiding his stare, one that felt as though it weighed a thousand tonnes.

"Sommat's wrong," he sighed. "I'm not liking the way you're talking about yourself."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, staring down at my hands as I fiddled with a makeup brush. He took three long strides over to me and grasped the brush from me, gently placing it next to me.

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