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It was three in the morning before you remembered that you weren’t in your own house and you couldn’t just close your eyes in bed and go to sleep.
It was three thirty before you kissed Nick goodbye and wobbled your way to the door, closing your eyes for a second too long and falling asleep as you bid Nick goodbye. He put his hand on your shoulder and pulled you in close, “You shouldn’t be going out when you’re this tired,” His voice was low and gravelly with sleep, too. “I know we’ve only been going steady for about two weeks, but how ‘bout you stay?”
Without a second thought you nodded and leaned heavily on Nick as he led you to his room. “I’ll sleep on the floor if you want me to, but I don’t mind sharing a bed.” You smiled at Nick and pressed a gentle kiss against your cheek before moving to get you clothing to wear. You fidgeted in the doorway before smiling and heading to change with the clothing in your tight grip.
As soon as the door shut you heaved in too much air, wide awake with anxiety. You peeled off your shirt and quickly replaced it with Nick’s, avoiding the mirror. You didn’t get so lucky because when you pulled your pants down to put Nick’s boxers on the door opened and he was holding a pair of sweats.
“Hey,” He said before looking up, “I figured you’d be more comfortable in-” And then you screamed, shoving Nick back before slamming the door. You had already begun crying from embarrassment as you jerked your jeans back on, socks slipping as you crashed to the ground. You stayed there and clenched yourself into a ball, crying, as Nick pounded on the door. You were too embarrassed to open the door and eventually Nick opened the door and found you there, trying to cover your bare skin with your hands. “What’s wrong?”
You flinched when he pulled you into his arms, but went with it. “I’m sorry,” You gasped, “I’m sorry. I just. I don’t like, I can’t look at myself and, and I don’t want you to look at me either because I’m not worth looking at.” Nick shushed you, pulling your jeans off before twining his limbs with yours. He just kept shushing you, holding you close, kissing your neck. He didn’t speak until your sobs subsided into hiccups and then Nick pulled you tighter to him before he spoke.
“I don’t care what you look like. You’re amazing, anyways. You’re beautiful. I hate that you feel like you’re not good enough and I hate that you think you can’t look at yourself. But you’re amazing and, if you don’t care, I’ll pick you up and we’ll go to bed and we’ll sleep and we’ll cuddle and I’ll love your body.”