Colby Imagines

You feel insecure

You sat on your bed, reading comment after comment, all about how your "thighs are too big" and how "you should loose the belly fat". You look down at you stomach, sure it wasn't flat but there wasn't any fat. Next  you look down at your thighs. They touch, but they aren't big. Were they? You slipped off you sweat pants and sweatshirt, revealing your boy shorts and sports bra. You stood in front of the mirror, twisting this way and that way, just looking at your body. You poked at your stomach, and grabbed at your waist. Before you knew it tears were streaming down your face. You felt your thighs, examining them, almost like you were looking for imperfections. You placed your hand over your stomach, trying to see how "squishy" it is. You turned to the side, looking at yourself from a profile angle in the mirror. The more you looked the worse you felt. You grabbed at your "chubby" checks and cried harder. You pinched the skin under your arm as your mascara ran down your face. Am I really fat? You asked you self turning around, looking at yourself. Yes, yes I am.
"Hey, do you know where my-" Colby starts as he walks into the bedroom, then quickly notices your crying, as he walked over to you, you were in the middle of pressing down your stomach and sucking it in, "what are you doing to yourself, baby girl?" He asks rhetorically as he comes up next to you.
"They all think I'm ugly and fat," you start as the tears start to come out faster, "and I'm starting to believe them."
"You're beautiful," Colby says before kissing you on the forehead as his hands held your upper arms, "don't let anyone tell you different."
"It's hard, Colby," you say shaking your head, he wipes the tears from under you eyes with his thumbs, "it's hard when everyone is constantly telling me that I'm too fat, or I'm too skinny, or I should loose a few pounds there, or tighten up here," you pause, "it's just hard," you say leaning your head against Colby's chest.
"I know it is," he says sympathetically, "I think you're beautiful," he says as he runs his hands around the curves of your waist, "you are beautiful," he says kissing you softly.
You melted into his arms, running your hands through his hair as you kidded him back.
He pulled back from the kiss and said, "it doesn't matter what they think, it matters what you think," before kissing you again, "I love you," he says, barely lifting his lips off of yours as his hands pulled you closer to himself.
"I love you too," you replied.