Match Maker One Shots

Heart Like Yours

A/N: if any of you have watched sex education i have a story about it if you wanna check it out

Summary: Sometimes, Mallory wonders how a heart like Taylor's could ever love a heart like hers (requested by @dickless4lifers sorry if it's not what you wanted, i tried 😭)

Warnings: mallory breaks a mirror. it's short, sorry

January, 2017

As the days grew shorter and the leaves began to fall, Mallory felt a familiar heaviness creeping into her soul. It was autumn again, the season when her seasonal depressive episodes always seemed to strike. This time, though, she was determined to keep it hidden, to put on a brave face for her girlfriend, who had always been her rock.

The change in her mood was subtle at first, but it became more apparent with each passing day. She withdrew from her usual activities, spending less time in her music room and avoiding social gatherings with friends. Mallory has always loved autumn, the vibrant colours and crisp air, but it also felt like a harbinger of darkness.

Taylor noticed the shift in Mallory's demeanour and grew increasingly concerned. She had seen Mallory go through this before, and she knew how difficult it was for her. Taylor tried to be supportive, suggesting outings, planning nights in, and offering a listening ear, but Mallory seemed distant and unresponsive.

One evening, Mallory stood in front of the bathroom mirror, studying her reflection with a detached gaze. Her eyes, once full of life and vitality, now appeared dull and lifeless. She sighed as she traced her fingers over the tattoos that adorned her body. Those tattoos had been a form of therapy for her, a way to cover the scars from her past, both physical and emotional. But now, as she looked at herself, she realized that the ink couldn't conceal the pain she felt inside.

She felt as though the ink had faded behind the scars.

Taylor, growing increasingly worried, gently approached Mallory. "Baby, please talk to me," she pleaded, reaching out to touch Mallory's shoulder.

Mallory flinched at the touch, making Taylor pull her hand away, and turn away from the mirror, her voice devoid of emotion. "I don't want to talk about it, Taylor. I just need some space."

"I've given you space, now I think you need to talk about it," Taylor pleaded. "Babe, please talk to me," she implored softly.

Mallory turned back around abruptly, her voice edged with frustration. "I told you, Taylor, I don't want to talk about it. Just give me some space!"

Taylor flinched at the sudden outburst, taking a step back as Mallory's anger radiated in the room. The tension between them hung heavy, and Taylor decided it was best to leave Mallory alone.

As Mallory stood there, her chest rising and falling with anger and frustration, she noticed a sharp pain in her hand. She looked down and realized that in her fit of anger, she had accidentally shattered the mirror. Her hand was bleeding from a cut.

Alone in the bathroom, Mallory knew she had to take care of herself. There was no Taylor to help her this time. She found a first-aid kit and began to patch up the cut, her hands trembling slightly as she cleaned and bandaged the wound. The physical pain was a stark reminder of the emotional turmoil inside her.

To Mallory, however, it was just another scar she would have to cover.

Once the bleeding was under control, Mallory turned her attention to the shattered mirror. She carefully cleaned up the broken glass, disposing of it safely. The act of cleaning provided a strange sense of catharsis, a physical manifestation of the turmoil she felt inside.