"You said you love me? Then beg for it. Beg for my love. Show me-prove it again and again until I say yes."
Beatrix is a girl of few words, someone who keeps her emotions locked away, unwilling to let anyone close. After experiencing deep trust issu...
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Beatrix:
Whenever I think of Ethan, a weight settles in my chest, heavy and inescapable. Part of me longs for him—to feel his presence, his affection—while another part flinches, recoiling from the inevitable pain that love seems to bring. It’s a cruel paradox, this longing and fear intertwined, pulling me in opposite directions. I crave the warmth of his gaze, yet I’m terrified of what it might mean. The past lingers like a storm cloud, blotting out the sun no matter how brightly the day begins. I tell myself I need to move forward, to leave these feelings behind. But every time I consider reaching for him, the fear tightens its grip, anchoring me in place.
And yet, no matter how hard I try to suppress it, my eyes always search for him. I catch myself watching, waiting—hoping. And on the days when he doesn’t smile at me, a cold knot forms in my chest, twisting tighter with each passing moment. It feels like he's slipping, retreating, giving up. Because of me.
I keep pretending. Smiling. Talking as if nothing has changed. But deep inside, a shadowed thought lingers—what if one day he stops trying altogether? What if he simply walks away, fades from my life as if he were never meant to stay? The possibility carves an ache so deep that it’s almost unbearable.
I hate this. I hate how powerless I feel.
Today was supposed to be just another day, an unremarkable routine. But as I stepped through the main gate, my heart lurched.
Ethan was there.
He wasn’t alone.
Martha stood beside him, laughing at something he said. The sight of them together knocked the breath from my lungs, freezing me in place. My pulse pounded, a slow, suffocating rhythm. I wanted to look away, to convince myself it meant nothing. But I couldn’t.
Because in that moment, with the late afternoon sun catching the warmth in his smile—a smile that wasn’t meant for me—something inside me cracked.
And for the first time, I wondered if I had already lost him.
I stood there, unmoving, watching them, my chest tight with an ache I couldn't explain. They looked so natural together, so easy, and suddenly it hit me — they would make a perfect pair. If I weren't here, if I wasn't standing in the way, maybe things would be different, maybe they would have found their way to each other without me ever knowing.
I stayed rooted to the spot, unable to tear my gaze away as they finally parted ways. They didn't seem to be discussing anything of importance, but my mind was already spinning, racing with thoughts that I couldn't quiet. Each one more suffocating than the last.
I stood there, frozen, my chest tightening with an ache I couldn’t quite name. They looked so natural together—effortless, like they belonged in the same frame. And then it hit me.
They would make a perfect pair.
The thought lodged itself deep inside me, sharp and unrelenting. If I weren’t here, if I had never been part of the equation, maybe they would have already found their way to each other.
