Bedtime

Outside lightening flashes and thunder cracks. I sit in my room alone, a magazine in my lap, it is filled with beautiful girls. I want to be beautiful.
I stand up to my full length mirror and take off my clothes, so I'm in my underwear.
They have perfect skin.
I have weird skin with freckles.
They have thin legs with cut muscles.
I have big thighs with flab.
They have small arms.
I have big gross arms.
They have a chest.
I don't.
They have a flat stomach.
I have rolls.

I hug myself, staring into the mirror. I want to see someone else there. I want to see someone with pretty skin, nice legs, normal sized arms, a chest, a flat stomach. I want to look like them.

There is a knock on my door.

"Who is it?" I call.

"Blake"

"Come in" I don't bother to put on clothes. I just stay put, staring at a figure I don't want.
He walks in, shutting the door behind him. He cocks his head to the side, probably wondering what I'm doing in just my underwear. I look at him through the mirror, sad. Why am I letting him see me like this? I'm disgusting. He shouldn't have to look at me.

"What's wrong baby doll?''
He puts a hand on my shoulder, I flinch away. Why would he want to touch me?

"I'm ugly" I reply simply, my eyes falling to the ground.

"What? no your not! Your beautiful"

Choked laughter make's it's way up my throat.
"Your just saying that because you don't want me to be mad at you"
I sniffle, knowing I've hit an all time low of feeling sorry for myself.
I feel stupid for it. There are so many things more important, yet I can't seem to care.
What's wrong with me?
I'm a bad person.

"No I'm not" He takes me by my shoulders and yanks me around so I'm facing him. I see there is something strange in his eyes, almost anger and almost sadness.
"You are beautiful Farrah!"
His fingers dig into my flesh. My fat.

"I don't see how" I whisper looking away, the look in his eyes makes me afraid of his reaction.
He grabs my hips with one hand and my face with the other. He forces me to look at him.

"Every part of you is beautiful, your eyes are the prettiest eyes a girl ever owned. Your skin is softer then silk. Your hair is like gold. You have a gorgeous body. You perfect in every regard" I shake my head the best I can in his iron grip.

"No" I whimper "Those girls in the magazine's are perfect, I'm fat" He pulls away from me and grabs the magazine. "This?" He shoves it in my face, growling.

"Yes" My voice is barely audible.
He throws the magazine across the room, it slams against my closet.
He takes hold of my jaw once more.

"They are fake! Do you hear me? Fake!" He's yelling now, it frightens me. He sees this and his face softens slightly. When he speaks again, his voice is shaky.
"You are the most real, beautiful girl I know" He presses his lips to my forehead, they trail down the bridge of my nose, brushing over my lips and chin. The stop just under my neck.
He is on his knees now, holding my hips tightly.

"So perfect" He repeats over and over, moving his lips down my neck and to my chest, stopping right above my sports bra. He moves and starts kissing my belly, he freezes at my belly button. He quickly stands up, holding my face with his hands on either side of my head.

"Don't ever say your not beautiful again, or-" He pauses breathing heavily "Just don't" He kisses my forehead once more, his lips pressing hard against my skull, before leaving.

*X*

I wait till I see the light in my parents bedroom go off before I tip toe to Blake's room. I seize the doorknob, pushing it open. He's standing there in just his boxers changing. I climb on his bed and watch him.

He's so attractive. His body has just the right about of muscle on it. He has pale skin like me, but with no freckles.

He pulls his boxers down, as if I'm not here, maybe he hasn't noticed me.

I blush, seeing a part of him I've never seen before. I stand up and go over to him, he has his back turned to me. I let my fingers trace over his broad shoulders. He tenses, freezing in the action of putting on clean boxers.

I run a finger down his spine, making him shiver, is he cold?
I outline, all his muscles, feeling the way they curve along his bones.
Why he breathing so hard?

He yanks his boxers up all the way and turns to me. He has a funny look on his face.

"W-Why don't you just get in bed and sleep, huh?" His face is flushed. I thought he was cold?

"Are you okay Blake?" My brows furrow as I stare up at him.

"O-Of course I am, just g-get in bed and I'll be there in a minute" He mutters hurrying into the bathroom and shutting the door. A second later I hear the faucet running. Guess he's brushing his teeth.

I flop on the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. The AC is blasting in his room. After a few minutes, he returns and joins me.

Unlike every night were he hugs me to me. Tonight he keeps his back to me and stays away as he sleeps.
Did I do something wrong?