*Smh this is more a of a drabble, if anything; I just wanted to write something. I was feeling so self-conscious of my acne today, and I thought that Tom Hanson would be perfect for this type of thing!

     You stared at your empty eyes in the mirror, before they wandered to your skin.

     Red, angry bumps scattered across your cheeks and chin, and some scars from where you'd popped your pimples lingered too. It didn't help that a painful, swollen cyst was starting to form on your right temple, but thankfully your hair hid it.

      You'd been on Accutane before, but your acne this time wasn't as severe as before. You mainly just noticed the acne scars from leftover.

      Your dermatologist had prescribed you a pill and a cream  to take at night, but your acne seemed to get worse.

     He had assured you that that was normal, it was just your skin adjusting to the medicine, but you felt like crap seeing your angry, battered skin compared to your boyfriend, Tom Hanson.

       Why is Tom even with me?

       He was virtually flawless. Pretty, fit, and smart, and his skin looked like he'd never had a pimple in his life.

       He was the first guy you met that didn't point out your acne, and gave you kisses along your face sometimes.

        "Dammit."

        You wiped the wetness along your cheek hastily, hearing his footsteps as he came to the washroom.

       "Babe, the pizza should be here- hey, what's wrong?" Tom asked.

       He wore a grey hoodie over blue jeans, his brown hair all fluffy.

        "I hate my skin. I hate having acne-why are you even with me, Tom?" You glanced at him, tears threatening to spill over again.

        His eyes softened. "Oh, Y/N."

        Tom pulled you in for a hug, his hands smoothing over your back. "You're beautiful, you know that? You're so much more than what your skin looks like, take it from me."

         You frowned.

         "What do you mean?"

         He stepped back, taking a breath before turning his back to you. Your eyebrow arched in confusion.

         "Tom?"

         He swiftly pulled the hoodie and his shirt over his head, revealing his back, which had a few angry spots and some acne scarring, mostly concentrated on the upper part of his back.

         "I have stressful job as it is, being a undercover cop, so you can imagine what it must've looked like before I got onto a prescription cream." He explained. "I've been using it for almost four months now, and I'm pretty happy with the results so far."

          He turned back to you, and you felt your cheeks burn slightly. "I had no idea- is that why you want the lights off-for a while? And why you sleep with a shirt on, even though it's hot?"

         He nodded, pressing his lips together. "But after a while, I realised it was stupid. I won't judge your acne, and I know you won't judge mine."

         You chuckled breathlessly, relieved.

          "I really like you, Y/N." His cheeks flushed slightly, "But I'm with you because I really like you. And so what if you have acne? Everyone gets it at some point, some just have it worse than others."

           You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into his shoulder. He reciprocated, kissing your jaw.

            "How about we see that movie, huh?" You asked, feeling much better. You'd completely misjudged him, when in reality he was struggling with acne too.

            You pulled back, seeing his grin match yours. "Okey-dokey." He agreed, kissing your forehead. "What kind? Horror or comedy?"

           "I picked last time, you can pick this time." You shrugged, the both of you now walking to the living room, where he'd set up the the couch with blankets and pillows. He put his shirt and hoodie back on, smoothing his hair out.

            "Die Hard it is, then. I heard it's really good, Judy loved it. She couldn't stop talking about it for a day, at some point." Tom  chuckled.

             You curled up next to him, placing the blanket over you two.
 
             "Let's watch it then." You smiled. "So impatient," Tom mused. "The pizza hasn't even gotten here yet-"

             Ding-dong!

             You giggled at the realization. "Right on time! Coincidence?"

             He rolled his eyes playfully as he went to get the pizza. "Sure. Whatever you say."

            "Tom?"

            He stopped, turning around to face you. His eyebrows were raised slightly.

            "Thank you for earlier,  and I like you alot, Tom."

            He grinned, his eyes glinting. "No problem, Y/N. I like you too."