He noticed the way her hands ran anxiously over her outfit smoothing out the imperfections that only she could see. She turned to him, her chocolate eyes wide and anxious.
"What do you think?" Her voice was sweet and like a melody.
"It's nice." he said simply. He didn't know what else to say, because he didn't care what she was wearing.
"Nice that's all?" Her tone crept up an octave.
He walked up behind her placing his hands on her hips so he could whisper huskily into her ear, "It is really nice, but I think you would look better with it off." A smirk crept onto his face, and she spun to press a kiss lightly to his lips.
He was being abnormally nice to her today, and she had no idea why.
At school though his nice mood was gone, and the words he said left her with tears streaming down her face. He hated himself for it, but the feeling he got from hurting her was exhilarating.
She was so Insecure.