𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

that's what makes you beautiful *request*

requested by @Laelamarley ! enjoy luv!

(Your POV)

Standing in front of the full length mirror in just a bra and underwear, all I can see are my flaws.

My stomach isn't flat enough.

My thighs are too big.

My acne is hideous.

My hair is a tangled mess.

My nose is too big.

My lips are too small.

I try to find something beautiful in myself, but all I see is a hideous beast, a girl trapped within the confinements of a less than ideal body.

I look away, afraid that if I look at myself long enough, I'll find another thing wrong with me.

Before I know it, a negative voice in my head starts getting the better of me, thrashing around in my brain as if being tossed by a choppy sea.

You're ugly, the voice says. You're worthless, no one loves you. How can they? People only love beautiful girls, and you are far from a beautiful girl.

I don't notice the salty tears dripping down my face until I hear a quiet voice from behind me. I look up into the mirror once again and see Timothée standing behind me, sadness and concern etched into his face. I quickly try to wipe my tears, but it's far too late; he knows I've been crying.

"Y/N, baby... what's wrong?" Timothée asks, walking up to me and wrapping his arms around my waist, putting his body flush against my back and his head on my shoulder. He looks at me through the mirror. His eyes look sad.

"Nothing," I lie.

"You're lying," Timothée states. "You can tell me anything, you know."

But how can I tell him that I hate myself? How can I tell him that I don't like a single thing about me?

"I'm okay, really."

"Y/N..."

One more look into his eyes and I'm done for. Tears start to spill uncontrollably from my eyes. Timothée spins me around and wraps me in a strong embrace, rocking me back and forth. He doesn't say anything, which I'm grateful for. He just lets me cry into his chest until there are no tears left to cry, occasionally kissing the top of my head. I rely on his steady heartbeat to control my own racing heart.

After a few minutes, Timothée pulls back slightly to look at me, wiping a tear from my cheek.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm horrific," I state blankly.

"What?" Timothée asks confusedly.

"I'm so ugly. My thighs are too fat and my stomach isn't flat enough. My acne is disgusting to look at, and my face as a whole is even worse. I hate everything about the way I look."

"Baby, are you kidding?" Timothée asks.

"No, I'm not. I'm so ugly."

"Baby, that is the biggest lie I have ever heard. You are by far the most beautiful person on this planet, inside and out."

"That couldn't be farther from the truth," I scoff.

"Really? Because I beg to differ."

Timothée lets go of my waist and spins me back around so I'm facing the mirror. Once again I'm hit with an onslaught of negative thoughts, but Timothée's soft voice in my ear pulls me away from those thoughts.