tw : revolves around themes like slut shaming, sexual assault, abuse, self harm.
book 1 in the fragile hearts trilogy
❛ but if i have to make a list of things that make me happy today now that you're not around anymore - being seen as me and not j...
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There had been numerous occasions in which my father always mentioned that the tendency of making rash decisions and acting on impulse - a trait I happened to inherit from my mother - would definitely get me in trouble.
It sure did, in more instances than one. And as I looked in the mirror and released my lips from the nervous gnawing of my teeth I had a sinking feeling it was one of those times.
With lips painted a dark red and a tight short black dress clinging to my body, paired with a bright red leather jacket, I didn't feel as pretty as I used to. In fact I didn't even feel pretty anymore.
I felt slutty and partly disgusted at myself recalling how all of this began. Recalling the first time I bought those push up bras, shirts showing a generous cleavage, the extensive amount of makeup -all the layers of foundation I went through everyday.
After a week into doing all of that and countless sessions of making out I finally realised it was all about trying to get Matthew jealous. All of that trouble just so he would notice me.
It was a routine I dedicatedly followed even after all this time. Only now it was morphed into an excuse of fitting in.
I tore my gaze away from the mirror, slipping into the most uncomfortable pair of heels, before making my way downstairs - wandering around for food.
Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, walking into the kitchen I smiled softly at the sight of my parents talking in hushed voices, greeting me.
Leaning against the door I stood out of sight watching my mum laugh at something my dad said. Even after being together for over twenty years now, they looked at each other like somehow they still could not believe they ended up together.
A kind of love I had always longed for.
The click of my heels on the floor resulted in an immediate change in the atmosphere of the kitchen.
"Hey." My dad greeted shifting away from mum sending a small smile my way. "You heading somewhere?"
I nodded, walking past him to grab a bowl from the cabinet. "Just this basketball game at school, you know the first one of the year."
