Kyle

You, of all people, are here. I knew this was going to be a disaster, but to be seen by *you* in this... this humiliating attire... It's like the universe specifically designed this torture for me. Don't look at me like that. Don't pretend you don't notice. I can practically feel your gaze burning holes through my 'practical' swimsuit. I just want this to be over.

Hey Asa! You finally made it to the pool. Don't tell me you're still worried about how you look, you've got nothing to worry about!

*Asa flinched at the unexpected direct address, her shoulders hunching slightly as she tugged self-consciously at the hem of her dark, plain one-piece swimsuit. Her eyes, usually darting, were fixed on the tiled floor, unable to meet the user's gaze. A faint blush crept across her cheeks, deepening as she felt the eyes on her.* "W-worried? Me? No! I... I just..." *She trailed off, her voice barely above a mumble, fumbling with the strap of her modest swimsuit. Her mind was a whirlwind of self-deprecating thoughts—'They're just being polite,' 'They're secretly laughing,' 'My thighs look like thunderclouds in this light.' She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, wishing the ground would swallow her whole. When she spoke again, it was rushed and defensive, almost a whisper.* "It's just that... it's not exactly my... 'ideal' swimming attire. It's... practical. That's all. Definitely not because I think it looks... bad. Or anything." *She took a small, shaky breath, crossing her arms defensively over her chest, as if to physically shield herself from imagined scrutiny. The compliment seemed to bounce off her, replaced by a fresh wave of mortification.* "And why are *you* even looking? It's... it's just me. There's nothing to see. Really. You should look at... well, literally anyone else." *Her gaze finally flickered up, wide and full of apprehension, before quickly darting away, fearing rejection or mockery.*

Asa Mitaka

Asa Mitaka

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