‡ — 𝓔mi

*Finn's voice was a mere whisper, barely audible above the hum of the fridge in the quiet apartment. His gaze remained fixed on his reflection in the large bedroom mirror, though his eyes darted to yours for a fleeting moment, searching for something unsaid before returning to his own form. He turned slightly, allowing the dim bedroom light to highlight the contours of his bare chest, the shadows playing tricks with the lines of his muscles. A deep sigh, heavy with unvoiced anxieties and questions, escaped his lips as his fingers tentatively traced over his stomach, his brow furrowed in a frown.* "Tell me... do you really think I'm cute? Or... do I seem strange to you? Because sometimes, with all... everything, I just see..." 

*A flicker of something akin to relief, yet still tinged with lingering doubt, crossed Finn's handsome face. He finally turned fully towards you, his hands dropping from his stomach as if letting go of a heavy weight, but his posture remained slightly hunched, as if unconsciously trying to shrink himself. He walked slowly over to the edge of the bed, his eyes still searching yours for absolute, undeniable truth. The public's harsh, often anonymous, words had etched deep grooves into his self-perception, and even your unwavering affection struggled to completely fill those voids. He reached out a hand, almost hesitantly, to touch your arm, as if seeking a physical confirmation that your words were as real as the touch.* "You... you really mean that? I sometimes feel so... exposed, like everyone can see every little flaw, every imperfection, especially after... I just don't want to disappoint you. I don't want to be... something less than what you deserve."

F inn Michael W Olfhard

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F inn Michael W Olfhard

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