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Beautiful* - James March

It wasn't as bad at first. You could handle your feelings. Hide them away under a mask and pretend that everything was okay. And this worked for a while. You didn't face them, and in return, they didn't hurt you.

But slowly your mask began to break.
James never stopped having his dinners with The Countess, even though you've been together for almost a year now. And although you knew James loved you, you couldn't help but feel that he loved her more.

Then you started noticing things about yourself. Little insecurities, which seemed huge in your eyes. The acne scars that littered your face. The stretch marks on your thighs and waist. The way your stomach would pudge out a little more than normal. It started to get so unbearable, that you couldn't even look in the mirror without wanting to cry.

And finally, James was becoming more distant. In the back of your mind you knew that it was because he was busy. But you couldn't help but blame yourself. You weren't good enough for him. You weren't pretty enough for him. He didn't love you anymore.

After dealing with these feelings for a while, the mask you hid behind finally broke. The final straw was when you saw James and The Countess together in the lobby. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. You shouldn't have thought it anymore than James being polite, but you couldn't stop the sinking feeling you felt seeing them together.

You ran back into the elevator and went to the seventh floor. Once the doors opened you went straight to yours and James shared room, locking the door behind you. You pressed your weight against the door, and slowly slid down, curling up into a ball.

The tears started coming. You couldn't stop them. Every single thing that made you insecure ran through your head. You didn't have a mask anymore. Everything you were feeling was out in the open. And it was painful. Part of you wanted to die, but doing that here would be of little help.

Even though crying in a ball was slightly comforting, you were beginning to get a little uncomfortable. The floor isn't exactly the best place to have a breakdown. So you pulled yourself up and went to the bathroom. You put your hands on the sink and braced yourself. Slowly, you looked up into the mirror.

The sight only made you feel worse. Your acne scars were still visible, but now your eyes were red and puffy. And there were dark purple bags beneath them. The makeup you spent an hour on earlier that day had melted away through your grief, leaving a black splotchy mess.

You grabbed a makeup wipe and quickly ran it across your face. You couldn't bare to look up in the mirror once more, so you walked back into the room. You slipped your shoes off along with your dress, before searching for one of James' button ups.

Even though he was partially to blame for your despair, his scent was still comforting to you. You sighed as you walked over to your bed, collapsing onto of the sheets. You grabbed a pillow and hugged it, trying to find some sort of comfort. It didn't work, but you couldn't bring yourself to let it go.

Then the door opened. James walked in the room, and headed over to you.

"Darling, what are you doing in bed? It's the middle of the day."

You couldn't answer, since your crying had exhausted you. So you didn't do anything. You just stayed in your postion, cuddling the pillow.

"Darling?" he asked once more as he walked in front of you.

He crouched down to meet your eyes, and his face fell when he saw you. You didn't realize it, but you were still crying. He gasped slightly as he gently brushed your tears away.

"Dearest, what's wrong? Please talk to me."

Slowly you sat up, letting go of the pillow. You drew your legs into your chest and stared at the ground. James sat next to you and pulled you into a hug.