Because it was Love.

Beautiful Liar

Hey guys, Another new chapter in between. It's Dew again :)

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Chapter 14

-Awya's POV-

"It was him isn't it? He was the one who hit you." Wicky had a frown on his face.

"Yeah. It was him." I gave him a smile, "Its fine. He's a friend actually so he didn't mean to hurt me. It was an accident."

It was almost inaudible but I still heard him mutter, "Oh I doubt that..." and I saw a fleeting look of anger in his eyes. I think he saw that I noticed it so he proceeded to give me a quick smile before he spoke, "How are you feeling? Does your body hurt?"

I shook my head and smiled "No, this is nothing actually".

"I've had worse..." I looked down at my hands and muttered to myself.

"I know" he whispered back. This made me look up at his face which was faintly etched with some unknown emotion which I assumed was pity.

"What...?"

He continued to speak over me as if I hadn't spoken before, "You should eat now. I brought you food" He beamed at me.

This reminded me that Lohan mentioned that he brought me food as well. I glanced at the bag on the bedside table and Wicky seemed to have noticed it too.

"It's fine if you want to eat the food your friend brought." He sounded perfectly normal while saying this but I could sense that he was a little hurt.

"Nah that's fine, I'll eat your food. I can eat his food later"

"Ever so sensitive aren't you..." I gave him a questioning look as to what he meant but he just smiled at me. It was almost as if he knew my thoughts.

Ever since I could understand and acknowledge the world, I have been nothing but an utter lost case. Though I was supposed to excel in my looks department, according to the good genes I was supposed to inherit, with passing years I turned out to be a disappointment to my mum. However my dad couldn't care less. His busy career and lack of interaction with the family made him unaware to the huge wall my mum and I had built between us.

During my teenage years however my mum got used to the appalled looks, and comments like "she looks innocent" instead of "what a beautiful girl you have Emma!". It hit her hard when an old woman who we met at a memorial blandly remarked "What a plain girl you have there with you Emma, does she look like her father 'cause I am sure she is nothing like you?"

She pretended to ignore me the entire ride home consumed by her sadness. The fact that she didn't have the beautiful daughter she wished for from the moment she knew she was pregnant with a baby girl made her distance herself from me further. Even though I put all my pain aside and tried to comfort her, she pushed me away further away. She was too grieved to see how would a fourteen year old feel when she was told ugly, the worst how would that fourteen year old feel when she was a disappointment in the eyes of the only person she wanted to be proud of her.

My mother wanted to be a model ever since she met one of the fashion models from Style magazine at one of grandpa's grandeur functions. Unfortunately my grandparents had other plans for her, they have been educated and well recognized academic professionals and they wanted her to follow the same footsteps. Though my mother tried to fret and fuss her future was already made for her so she swore to herself that if she ever had a daughter she would indeed make her baby girl a world recognized model, the dream she could never get her hands on.

Since I was never appreciated by anyone, after years and years of been labeled as a disappointment I eventually realized that the world was right, my junior year and senior years never helped me feel any less about my decision. I was cornered, ignored and laughed at by the popular crowd so I decided to withdraw myself. Even though some approached me with pure intentions I still shied away and always doubted their motives.

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After we were done eating the food; I decided to share the food with Wicky because he hadn't had his breakfast, I figured it was time to formerly apologize to him. "Wicky, I've been meaning to tell this to you before. I'm really sorry for stalling on you."

"Are you serious? Here you are laying in a hospital bed and you are worried about my school project? You really are far too nice Awya. Listen, my project can wait just concentrate on getting well" He exclaimed before going quiet for a minute. His face scrunched up in worry and he looked up guilty at me, "I feel like it's partly my fault that you're here. If I hadn't asked you to hang out with me...." He trailed off.

"Hey Wicky don't be like that. You know you've done nothing wrong so please don't feel guilty. Alright?"

He smiled wearily, "I am sure your parents are so worried with your current state. They must've been in so much fear not knowing what was happening here".

Although Brandon called my parents for me they still haven't showed up. I heard from the nurse that my father called the hospital and said he will be here by tomorrow but mum won't since she is out of the country. I did not want her to know about this anyway she hated interruptions of any sort during her business deals. It wasn't like I was dead so nothing to worry. Yet here were two strangers that I met very recently, who don't even know me, staying by my side, taking care of me. I stifled the urge to break down and cry.

"Oh yeah my mum called and she was worried that she couldn't be here for me and she clearly warned me to not get out of bed until she is right beside me". I went on ranting about my dad, him been here the whole evening worrying about me. It felt like as if I was a kid, who went around the room drawing shapes out from her hand explaining her dreams she saw to her parents. She was explaining the unicorns and the rainbow colored houses, I was just like that except I wasn't a kid and my parents weren't here.

Through my entire rant Wicky patiently listened to every word I was saying and nodded along. Yet he had a sad smile on his face, as if he knew. As if he knew I was lying...

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-Wicky's POV-

As soon as I asked her about her parents visiting, I regretted it. She was going on and on about her father visiting her. I was listening to every word she said. Hanging on every single word she said. It was so heartbreakingly beautiful the way she was lying. The way she was painting her imaginary story, where her father actually visited her. I can clearly see as the day that she was lying. She had her hands in fists and body tensed up, not stopping to take a breath, just letting words tumble out as if her life depended on it. Lying not to try and make me believe in the story but to make her own self believe in the lie that she was weaving, as if to mend her broken heart.

If only I could save her from this heartbreak like how she once saved mine...

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***NOTE***

The previous chapters 'Beauty and the Beast' and 'Kiss can tell' is removed because the story will change.