take it slow, take it easy on me

Your girlfriend loved you very much, and while you were aware of that, sometimes it was hard to keep out that little voice in the back of your head saying that she could do so much better than you. It filled your mind up with lies, hissing out things such as "she only loves you for your personality, not your looks" and "once she finds someone better than you, she's going to leave".

Fighting these thoughts off was hard work, and it got even harder when you saw the way she interacted with one of the night shift's attendings, Dr. Abbot to be specific. You knew they were just friends, mere work colleagues and nothing more. But when you'd go home at the end of your shift and look in the mirror, you'd see a person staring back at you that, in your opinion, wasn't worthy of her.

Samira was way out of your league, that was for sure. She could have anyone she wanted, so why settle for you?

Especially when there were people like Jack around. He was tall, muscular, a little bit older--not to mention devilishly handsome. Everything that you wanted to be, everything that you longed for, but weren't. Because at the end of the day, you were still just you, nothing special.

Even seeing your reflection was enough to send you into a spiral; just another reminder that your outside didn't match your inside. It got so bad, you had to cover up any and all mirrors at your place and just hope you looked presentable when heading into work.

Despite trying to hide all of this from the people around you, there was one person you couldn't fool. Samira had noticed how withdrawn you'd started to become, the way you kept your head down at work more than usual and didn't talk if you didn't have to, as though you hated the sound of your own voice.

While she wasn't entirely certain of what was going on, she knew it had to be pretty bad given how you'd started to avoid even her, making up excuses as the why you couldn't hang out after work or meet up on your days off. It broke her heart to know that you were struggling so much, and that you were intent on doing it alone. To her, that just wouldn't do, so she decided to take the initiative to reach out first, figuring it'd be quicker than waiting for you to come around on your own.

The next time you had a day off, she also scheduled one for herself without you knowing so she could come by your place. Part of her felt guilty for keeping you in the dark on it, but she knew if you were given the choice you'd just shut her out again.

She hesitated for a moment once she got there as she stood outside your door, trying to collect her thoughts. After a few minutes had passed, she finally took a deep breath and pulled out her key, unlocking the door and quietly entering your apartment.

It was almost completely dark inside, the curtains all drawn shut and the lights turned off. Since she guessed you'd done this on purpose, she decided to leave it as it was, doing her best to carefully make her way through the dimly lit area without bumping into anything.

She found you laying in bed, curled up under so many blankets it looked as though you'd created a cocoon for yourself. It was dark in there, too, and she noticed the full length mirror you always used to check your outfit before leaving had a blanket thrown over it.

It felt like her heart was shattering in her chest. How could she have missed so many of the clear signs that you weren't doing okay?

Before she could say anything, you beat her to it, your voice groggy and muffled as it spoke up from somewhere inside the blanket heap. "Mira? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me." She slowly approached, moving to sit near the foot of the bed as she observed your form with a sympathetic gaze. "What's been going on with you lately? You're much more withdrawn, and I'm worried about you."

"Mhm," you replied with a soft grunt, clearly not in the mood for addressing your feelings. She just sighed and reach over, placing a tentative hand to where she thought your shoulder might be.

"Look, I know it's hard to talk about, but I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong," she gently reminded, rubbing soothing circles to your body from over the blankets.

You remained quiet for a bit longer, as though you were fully contemplating her words. "Do you wish I was… different?" You finally managed to blurt out, knowing if you didn't say something now, you never would.

That had her brow crinkling in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" you let out a heavy sigh, already regretting bringing it up but knowing there was no turning back now. "I see you with Jack, and I see just how tall he is, and muscular, and handsome, and--I don't know, I guess I can't help myself thinking that you might be better off with someone more like him, instead of someone like me." You lowered your voice before adding a softer, "he's better than me. He's more… manly, than I am."

"Hey, don't say that," Samira lightly scolded, lips pulled tightly into a thin line of disapproval. "He's not better than you, okay?" She rubbed your shoulder some more before speaking in a gentler voice. "Where's all this coming from, hm?"

"I don't know. Just… lately I've been wondering if you even like the way that I look, or if you're just with me for my 'sparkling personality'." Even with hiding under several blankets, it was hard not to pick up on the sarcasm and self-loathing in your voice given how obvious it was.

"Oh, babe," she cooed out compassionately as she realized what was wrong. "I do like the way that you look. I think you're so incredibly handsome, okay?" She shifted a bit closer to further empathize her words. "And no one could be better than you, I promise. You're such a pretty boy, did you know that? I love you just the way that you are."

It was quiet briefly, and then the sound of sniffles and hiccups filled the air as you began to cry. You never expected her to be so understanding over the whole thing. "Do- Do you really mean that?" You somehow manage to choke out.

"Of course I mean that," she affirmed in a low and comforting voice, hand slipping down to where the end of the blanket pile was. "Can I see you? I won't turn the lights on, I promise. I just wanna get a look at my pretty boy's face."

You did your best to nod, mumbling a pitiful little "yeah". She then, bit by bit, pulled the blankets back until you were revealed, tear-stained face and all.

"There you are. There's my sweet boy," she murmured with a warm smile, reaching a hand over so she could delicately wipe a stray tear away from your cheek. "You're such a precious thing, aren't you? I'm sorry you haven't been feeling well lately."

Your bottom lip quivered slightly as more droplets of your emotions escaped from the corners of your eyes, leaning in to press your face into the familiar touch of her hand. It had been far too long since you'd been held like this, too fearful that you weren't good enough to deserve such tender affection.

"Do you want me to cuddle with you for a bit, hm?" She questioned sensitively, aware that you might not want to be touched any more than this right now.

But your response was immediate and firm, an unmistakable nod that caused the corners of her lips to curl upwards fondly. "Okay, then that's what I'll do." She pulled back, letting out a chuckle at your protesting whine before slipping under the blankets with you. Her arms wrapped around your body in a loving embrace, limbs locking together as you shoved your face into the crook of her neck.

"Thank you for being here," you spoke up suddenly, your voice but a hushed whisper, as though your crying might become worse if you made yourself be any louder than that. "I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," she easily replied, placing a kiss to the crown of your head as one of her hands resumed its earlier movements of soothing rubs, though this time it was your back that got the calming treatment. "Anything for my pretty boy. I'm always here if you need me, okay? No matter what, I've got you. And believe me when I say that no one could ever take your place, because no one alive is better than you are."

Her voice was like a sedative, finally knocking out that dreadful hissing in the back of your head that made you feel so awful to begin with. And for the first time in a while, you actually believed that she loved you for who you were and for what you looked like.

End notes: this fic hit close to home for me in case you can't tell 🤧

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