One Night pt. 28


WARNING: Mature content

- Boram's point of view - It's not even seven and here we are laying in bed. Exhausted. He's on his back and I'm pressed up against side, resting my head on his shoulder as he slowly and absent mindedly brushes his finger tips across my back. "I was a bit preoccupied earlier, but was that a new tattoo on your leg that I saw?" I nod. "It's been finished for about a month and a half." "Why did I not see it until now?" I shrug and laugh. "A surprise I guess. Looks better in person." "Let me see it again." I move the blanket and move my leg so he can see it better. He sits up a little. "It's beautiful and very vivid. It's big too." "Yeah it takes up most of my thigh." It starts about five inches below hip and ends an inch above my knee. Muscular thighs make for a good sized canvas. "Do you like it?" He runs his hand over it. "I love it. It fits you. The style and colors match the one on your hand well. I always liked that one." He picks up my hand and kisses it. "A dark blue rose with vines and smaller roses that go up your forearm a little." He traces his fingers along the vines. "So pretty. The light, swirly, cloudy background is cute. It really shows your femininity. It's quite an attention getter." "Yeah I suppose it's hard not to notice. A lot of people don't much care for hand tattoos though." "Well, I do. So, why'd you pick a tattoo of a koi fish pond? There a reason?" "Koi ponds are supposed to be calming. It reminds me that I need to relax and not let myself get so stressed out all the time. There's two fish, a white and orange one and a black and orange one, they symbolize a sense balance that I need in my life." "I like that. That's a good reason. I'd like for you to not stress like you do. You really do worry too much. It's very well done, though. Almost looks real." "Yeah. That's how I wanted it." He lies back down and sighs. "So I think today is pretty much done for us, I think we'll be spending it just like this." I laugh. "That sounds nice though." "It does. What do you want to do tomorrow?" "Don't tease me like that." "I'm not teasing. I'm serious, I want to go out on some dates with you this week." "We can't do anything, you can't get caught with me hanging around you." He smiles. "Yes. I actually can." I sit up to look at him. "You better not be lying. If you are, I'll kick you out of this room and leave you in the hallway with only your boxers on." He laughs. "I talked to some people and I made a bit of a fuss. I wasn't walking away until they allowed it." "So, I don't have to be a secret anymore?" He shakes his head. I pull him back up and hug him. "I'm so happy! I'm excited to be able to go do things!" He hugs me back. "I'm excited too." "Did you have to tell them about me?" "They needed to know a little bit, but it's not like they needed to know anything overly personal." "Did you show them a picture of me?" "Yes." "Did they think I didn't look right for you?" He sighs. "No." I pull away. "You're lying." "Kind of. You were a bit more of a woman than they expected." "What'd they expect? A fifteen year old girl?" "You're just a bit more mature looking than they figured someone like me would be dating." "Got it. Well that's not a bad thing I guess." "Not at all. Anyway, I'm excited to show you off." "You're not afraid of what people will say? In magazines or online?" "Nope. I won't pay it any mind. I'm extremely proud to have you by my side." I hug him. "Thank you so much. Thank you for wanting to stop hiding me away. Thank you, it means the world to me that people will know I belong to you." "No. You've got that wrong." "What?" "I thought I've made it very clear that I belong to you. I am more than okay with that, in fact I want it that way. You take very good care of me." I laugh. "You make it sound like you're a pet." He lies back again. "Call it how you want to, but you're the one in charge most the time." "And you're okay with that?" "You make good decisions so I would prefer it. You're a lot more logical. I'm too emotionally driven." "That is very true. I think I've seen you cry more often than you've seen me cry." "Shut up. There's nothing wrong with that." "There's not, just saying that you are definitely more sensitive than me. I guess our roles are a little reversed than the typical couple, huh?" "Well are we really that typical in any other aspect either? I mean, let's be honest here; our relationship makes almost no sense when explained to other people." "That's very true. My parents thought I was crazy." "So did mine. Let's not forget the weird things we talk and laugh about or how some of those weird things are extremely sentimental to us. When to the outside world they'd think we were, well, weird." I laugh. "You've made your point. We're strange and broke the mold." "That's okay though. I like it." "Do you think people will be bothered by the fact that I'm American?" "That'd be a little ridiculous, so no I don't think that will happen. Maybe to a select close-minded few, but not everyone." "That's good." I think for a few moments. "Do we look like a weird couple? I mean, I've never actually seen myself with you. I feel like we shouldn't look too different, ya know? Like one of us is out of place type of thing." "Like if we contrast so much that it would look odd?" "Yeah. We don't, right?" "Kind of. Visually, I think we're closer to contrasting than fitting together well." "Why!" "Well, I don't know. A lot of times I wear nice classic clothes and you dress in more fun or edgy clothes. If I'm dressed normal in like a T-shirt and jeans, then we'd match more. And seriously those people were right, you really do look like more woman than I could handle." "I'm not sure how to feel about that. I don't want to make you look bad. I mean, I usually do just dress fun or edgy. Even if I did wear a nice dress or something it'd have to be long enough to cover my tattoo. Even then, there's no hiding the one on my hand. I don't usually wear "cutesy" clothes." "And you don't have to. You can if you want to, but you don't have to change yourself." "What if people say I'm trashy, or that I look like a slut? I know a lot will." "Then they'll be wrong. If someone asked about you during an interview or something, I'd say that you're my strong, opinionated, smart, and beautiful American girlfriend. I won't let them think any different." "What are your friends going to think? They don't know anything about me or what I look like." "They won't judge you based on how you look. They're not like that. They'd probably be jealous though." I laugh. "Right. Oh my god! What about your family! They haven't seen me! They're never going to think I'm an appropriate choice for you! Not if they only see how I look!" "It'll be fine. They know I wouldn't be with someone who wasn't a good person." "They still won't think I look good for you though." "I know you look good for me. I know that all around, you are perfect for me. That's what matters. So stop worrying. I seriously do not care about what anyone tells me since they don't know you. I know you and I know that I love you." I sigh. "Well I'm glad you're not worried. Thing is though, you wouldn't be the one ruining anyone's reputation; I would. That's why I'm worried. I don't want to be responsible for making you look bad because I don't look a certain way." He's done with this conversation, I can hear it in his voice. He turns his head and looks away from me. "Boram. I will only say this one more time. I do not give one single fuck about what people think or say. If they want to think I look bad because of you, then they can go fuck themselves. If they think you look trashy, then they can go fuck themselves. If they want to judge you based on your outer appearance or nationality, then they can seriously go fuck themselves. Are we done with this now. Have I made it clear that what people say will not make me leave you or stop loving you? That I don't regret being with you? That I am never going to be ashamed of you? Have I finally gotten that through your skull? Because I don't like playing this "what if" game, not one bit. If you want to play "what if" then let's talk about what if we bought a house or a dog. Those are the things that are fun to dream about. I refuse to listen to you continuously rip on yourself and ruin what little self-esteem you have; because to be perfectly honest, you don't have enough. You don't need to go losing more. I'm getting tired of this. Do you know how hard it is to listen to the person you love say they're basically worthless all the time? It's frustrating. I promise you that you're a wonderful person. I swear to God himself that you are worth so much more than you think you are. So just stop with this, I'm not going to entertain these pointless and baseless ideas that you have. When you want to talk to me about something, if it's about you being worthless, or trashy, or not good enough, then keep it to yourself. Because it's not true and I don't want to continue repeating myself for the rest of my life. Because no matter what I say or how often I say it, you won't believe me. It's been over a year and I know that you aren't any closer to believing the things I praise you for. Hopefully meeting my friends and seeing how they like you, will make you think better of yourself. Otherwise, I'm at a serious loss for what I'm supposed to do with that attitude of yours." I'm speechless. He's never gone off on me like that. He wasn't yelling, but he might as well have been. I feel my eyes burning and voice shaking. "I'm sorry. I didn't know I was getting on your nerves." "Well you were. I don't know how you get through life thinking of yourself the way you do. Anyone else who thinks as lowly of themselves as you do, would have just given up on life by now." "Oh." "I mean seriously, if you think I'm so damn wonderful, then wouldn't that mean that you were just as wonderful because I love you? Your brain just doesn't cooperate with you." I sniff and blink back tears. "I know." "You're logical about every other fucking thing in the world, but God forbid you apply that logic to yourself. It's like the only things you let your emotions take over are love and feeling worthless. You need a serious attitude adjustment." He hasn't looked at me this whole time. He's just looking towards the wall. He must not want to see my being hurt. "You know. I don't know if it's my place to say anything. I'm not entirely sure how these things work; but you said that medication made you feel normal. Well I beg to fucking differ, because that's not normal. Nothing about how you talk about yourself is normal. There's a difference between critiquing yourself and just being self destructive. You need something else, or something more, I don't know. But I'm telling you now that that isn't normal." I whimper a little. Tears are falling, but I'm trying not to cry loud. I'm trying to let him say what he wants about how he feels. When he hears that whimper he glances at me for a moment, but he immediately looks back in the other direction. "I'm sorry I'm not normal enough to make you happy." "There you go! You're fucking doing it right now! Did I say I loved you less! No I didn't! I just want you to be happy with yourself!" He grabs my arm and pulls me out of the bed. He stands me in front a mirror. "Wipe the tears off your face and stop crying. I don't have time for you to feel sorry for yourself." I wipe them and take a few deep breaths to stop crying. "Done?" I nod. His voice softens. "Okay. Look at yourself in that mirror. I don't even want to hear about what you see in it. I'll tell you what I see." He stands behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. "I see eyes that are bright and lively; so contrary to what you focus on. You can acknowledge all the wonderful things you see in the world, but you refuse to look at yourself that way." He lightly runs a finger over my bottom lip. "You have a smile that can brighten anyone's day, but you won't let it brighten your own. You have a smile that somehow makes you even more beautiful than you already are. Because you look happy, and when you're happy your face lights up in the most cheerful way. You use this mouth to give others praise and make everyone else feel good about themselves, but then you go and lower yourself." "Hold up your hand." I hold up my hand and he holds it gently. "This is one of my favorite things about you. Do you know why?" I shake my head. "Because you are alway reaching out to help people. You're always giving yourself up to make other people's lives easier. You give people things to make them happy, even if it means you have to go without. You're selfless." He rests his hand on top of mine as he places it on the left side of my chest. "Can you feel that? This is my other favorite thing about you. Your heart. Your heart that is always caring about other people; so much so that you always have them in mind when you do something. It's amazing how much love you manage to fit in such a small space. You fit more love in your heart than anyone else I know, yet you won't let any of that love be for yourself." He runs his hands down my arms. "I see these arms that are infinitely stronger than they look. They're so strong because they're always carrying other people's burdens. These arms that you use to lift people's spirits." He moves some hair behind my ear. "You have ears that listen to everyone's problems. You'll listen, but you'll never tell anyone yours because you don't want to bother them or make them worry. So you worry over everyone else's issues including your own. Internalizing all that negativity." "Should we move on to your outer beauty?" He puts his hands on my shoulders. "I see how cute you look in an oversized T-shirt. You look carefree and adorable. You look youthful and playful, and I love everything about it." He runs his fingers through my hair. "I see this long, shiny, soft black hair. You look healthy because of how nice it looks. I smell how light and flowery your scent is; it's delightful." He caresses my cheek. "You have the most beautiful and radiant skin. It's warm and smooth as silk." He lifts my shirt so my stomach is exposed. "I see a perfectly shaped body. You have hips that are just the right size. They give you an hourglass shape that many women would pay thousands for if they could." He slides his hand up my shirt and holds my breast. "I see full, soft, natural breasts that are simply beautiful." He wraps his arms back around my waist. "I see legs that are perfectly shaped with curvy thighs and slender ankles." He rests his chin on my shoulder. "Boram, you have been absolutely blessed. You have a personality filled with generosity and thoughtfulness; that is such a rarity to come across these days. That personality should bring you as much happiness as it brings to everyone else. You have a body and face that angels would envy. You have the characteristics of the most loving deity. You will never stop being my goddess." He shakes his head. "But you don't see yourself the way I do. I'm begging you to see yourself in a positive light. Tell me, do you see anything that I see? Do you believe any of the things I said? Think for a moment. Just try." Can I agree? He's the only one who's ever said things like that to me. Is it true if only one person has said it? Can an opinion really be a fact? "I think I like my hair. It is soft." He smiles. "It's extremely soft. Is there anything else?" "I have a hard time finding jeans that fit, a reason why I wear dresses so much, but I still like having thighs like I do. I like having muscular legs too, it makes me feel strong." "You are strong." I grab my chest. "I don't think I'll ever dislike these. I'm proud. I grew them myself." He laughs. "You should be proud." I rub my cheeks. "My skin is soft. I don't use many skin care products, actually I only use soap and face wash, so that's nice to not have to work hard for soft skin. Saves money too." "Wow you don't use lotion or anything?" I shake my head. "Lucky." I smile. "I guess. And you're right, my smile is super happy looking. There's no medium setting, it's just sad or happy, even my content smile looks pretty happy. Oh! And my teeth are really straight since I had braces when I was little." "Yes they are." For a moment I look at him in the mirror, and he's gazing at me with a loving look I've never seen from any other person. "Does it really make you that happy to hear me say nice things about myself?" "More than you know. I just want you to see yourself like I see you. We all have insecurities; I don't expect you to get rid of them all, but I'd love it if you could get rid of a few." "I see some nice things." "Do you think you're good enough yet?" If he can say all these loving things to me, things that were extremely thorough and not just nice meaningless words, then maybe it's true. Maybe I am good enough. What matters is if he thinks I'm good enough for him, not whether other people think so. Our relationship is only me and him; the world has no say in the matter. We're the only ones who can make that judgement, because only we know eachother well enough to do so. I look down, but I'm smiling. "Yes. I think I'm good enough." He turns me around hugs me tightly. "Thank you." "For what?" "Letting us move forward so that we can be together without any hesitation or worries about what people may or may not think." "Thank you for making that possible." "It was absolutely my pleasure."


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