reblog if you want anonymous opinions of you
Marianne had been staring at the mirror for some time now.
She was on her underwear, looking to every single flaw on herself.
Her breasts were too big. People always say that they make her looks like a slut.
Her stomach was not and never was flat. Was she fat? Probably. Maybe she should try dieting. But no diet would take away her stretchmarks.
Her legs had cellulite and more stretchmarks. Not too many, but enough to make her very uncomfortable.
Her buttocks were too small, her hips were too thin, her arms a little too long.
Her face is too pale. She had big purple bags under her eyes. Her blond hair was dull and dry. Her lips were to thin, her eyes too big.
And she wouldn’t think about her nose. That would make her cry.
(Marianne’s nose was a little crocked due to an apple that Arthur had thrown in her face when they were children).
Every single day Marianne had to put a mask and pretend to be beautiful. Most of the time she believes that. She feels like beautiful.
Today she sees how ugly she is.
He was a terrible mess. People probably laugh about her on her back.
Marianne held herself, felling miserable.
- Hey poppet. – Arthur said, entering their room, oblivious to her wife’s worries – The kids were going to sleep at a friend’s house. – he hugged her from behind – Are you thinking the same as I? – He smirked and started to kiss, lick and bite her neck.
She sighed sadly.
- I’m not in the mood, Arthur.
He stopped and looked to her throw the mirror, with concerned green eyes.
- Is everything ok, love?
- Marianne, I know you. – he caressed her hands and arms, still holding her, and kissed her shoulder – What is wrong, poppet?
She looked away from his eyes on the mirror.
- It is silly.
- Ok. I can handle a little silly.
The Frenchwoman took a deep breath.
- Am I…Am I ugly, Arthur?
He seemed surprised.
- No, of course not, Mari!
- Not even one bit?
He turned her around, kissed her forehead, her cheek and her lips.
- You are the most beautiful woman in the whole world.
- You are just being kind.
- No, I’m not.
He kissed her passionately.
- You ARE beautiful.
She hugged him while he caressed her back.
- Let me show you how beautiful you are…
- Amour, I’m not in the mood…
- I didn’t say anything about sex. – Arthur kissed her again – Let me love you and your perfect body a little bit.
And he really wasn’t talking about sex. At least not specifically.
Arthur kissed her from toe to head, stopping only to compliment every inch of Marianne’s body about everything (how the format and size of her breast were perfect, about how her skin were soft and gloaming, about how her curves were delicate and pretty, etc). Then he did a massage on her with some moisturizing oil. She was moaning and almost crying from happiness and love. Then they made love softly and slowly, moaning out loud.
They lay in bed.
The last thing Arthur said before fall asleep was.
- You’re beautiful…
She felt like crying from happiness.
Because she believed that that was true.
((THIS was difficult o.o but I kinda like it =3))