you belong with me | Louis Partridge x Fem Reader

|34|

( TW: ED)

sometimes, every day feels the same.

wake up

brush teeth

brush hair

get dressed

get in my car

skip breakfast

go to my first class

go to my second class

I feel sick

I get to my third class

go to lunch

try to eat without throwing up

go back to class

try to stay awake

get to the last class

wait for the clock to say 1:50

I look back up at the clock and it's 1:48.

Finally.

I start packing up my stuff and as I put on my backpack the bell rings. I start to walk out and all I see is everyone looking at me. I know why.

Timothee.

I start putting my things in the backseat and I get a tap on my shoulder.

I turn around to see Jordan.

"I really don't want to talk to you," I say slamming the car door

"I had fun the other night," he says leaning up against my car.

"goodbye," I reply

I get in my car and pulled out of the parking lot of the school.

I get home and open the door to see Timothee watching Netflix.

"hey y/n how was school?" he asked

"eh it was okay thanks for asking"

"Louis came by wondering if you were home yet," Timothee said while eating popcorn

"oh okay" I replied

I go up to my room and put down my backpack.

I looked in the mirror

I push my hair in front of my face

I push it back

I pull it into a high ponytail

I let it go

Onto my face

I push my cheeks up to give me a perky look

But when I let go they fall giving me my usual tired look

I put my hands on the sides of my face and pull back

Giving the illusion that I have a skinny face

only to remove my hands and see my usual fat face

Onto my body

With the shirt I have on I take both sides

and pull them to my backside

Which shows me my figure, how nice.

I'm not skinny. I'm not fat.

My boobs are too small. My boobs are too big.

I have no butt. My butt is too big.

My arms are long. I have hair on my legs.

You can see my bruises and scars and acne

and everything. You can see everything.

I look away. Take a deep breath

and return to the mirror

only to see tears running down my face.

I hate the way I look.

I sat on my bed and hear a knock on the door.

"can I come in?" Timothee asked

"Yeah come in" I replied

"How are you feeling?" he said

I look down at my hands "I'm feeling pretty shitty, to be honest with you"

"you know it's okay to feel shitty right?"

" I feel like I'm wasting my teenage years always at home, always alone never with anyone, never partying or drinking. no one gives a shit about me, not even my parents. I'm just a miserable wreck"

Timothee comes leans over and hugs me so tight "I care about you y/n. I think your amazing"

He grabs a little notebook and hands it to me. "Write down how you feel. Hell make a song or something"

"express how you feel" he kisses the top of my head and shuts the door slowly.

Write down how I feel?

How hard can that possibly be?

a/n

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