Bruised and Scarred.

What Makes You Beautiful

As I put my make-up away I explained that we were running low on groceries so we need to go shopping. He had no choice but to follow me back out the door and into my car. While we were driving along he started fiddling with the radio. “Oh what a lovely song!” he said as he landed on a station playing Live While Were Young. “Oh no, I’m the driver” I said and switched it to play music from my phone. We listened to two out of four All Time Low albums while on shuffle. Louis silently liked it while I was singing at the top of my lungs.

When we got back though, Niall and Harry were both settled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn nestled in between their sleeping bodies. The Lion King was playing over top of their gentle snores. I had walked in first and gave Louis the sign to be quiet. He followed into the kitchen to put away the groceries and back out to make way on my devilish plan. I gathered some of my colorful make-up and tip toed out to the living room with Louis following behind. “Want to do the honors?” I whispered. He gladly took the bright eye shadow and brush applying it to Harry’s eyes and the same to Niall with a different color. In the end they looked like a two year old got a hold of some make-up. Niall had big patches of green over his eyes while Harry had a burgundy color over his. They both had lipstick anywhere, but their lips and mascara and eyeliner somewhere on their faces. After that we went back to my room where I proceeded to kick butt at Mario Kart.

A few hours later we both froze at two voices exclaiming, “What the heck?” probably after looking at each other’s faces. We then burst out laughing, totally forgetting about the game that was currently going on. Not even a minute later they stormed into my room glaring at us while we still laughed and even more now that they were looking at us with such angry looks. Soon they started laughing too and the flat was otherwise silent besides our laughing. “Next time, I’m making Liam or Zayn come over” Niall sputtered out between fits of laughter. Our laughs died down eventually and that’s when Niall asked about make-up wipes. I pointed towards the bathroom and suddenly the whole situation wasn’t funny anymore when Niall walked back in, clean face with very little remains of lipstick and eyeliner, but with a small blade in clenched between his pointer finger and thumb.  They all just looked at me with disappointment and Niall’s face had so much of it that I wanted to run. I just knew he’d stop me if I tried. The tears welling up in my eyes spoke for me as I felt sorry for what I did and what I’m doing to Niall. Niall cares and wants to help, but I’m not taking his help very well. He didn’t react to me, but instead turned around to throw it away. I fell backwards on my bed and curled up into a ball. A sobbing mess with Harry and Louis whispering and rubbing my back trying to say something that will calm me down and relax me.

Niall successfully avoided me for the rest of the night. He really can’t stand when I do it. He never understood why I continued either. Even after he had the knowledge of me doing it in the first place I just did it more and more, but as secret as possible. That’s why after the first time I resorted to cutting my hips instead of my wrist where it’s so much more visible. He’s such a good friend who told me countless times how good I look without make-up and I never believed it. I guess I won’t believe it until I’m hearing it from someone who truly loves me, because I’ve never been loved and I still don’t think I am. Being surrounded by friends is different to what I want. Until then I’m average, average and absolutely hideous. “Jessa” said the quiet Irish accented voice I knew so very well. I looked up, following Louis and Harry. “Yes” I said. “Come here”, is all he said before turning around and walking down the hallway. I got up and followed while Louis and Harry both gave me sympathetic looks as I followed him into his room. He gently took my hand and pulled me next to a full length mirror. I was turned so that I was facing him, but away from the mirror. “Jessa, you don’t know just how beautiful you are” he said never moving his icy blue eyes from staring right into the depths of mine. I shook my head in disagreement as silent tears trickled down my cheeks. He caressed my face with his hands, using his thumbs to brush the tears away. A small smile lasted for a second. He turned me so that I faced the mirror, with his hands settled on my hips and his head resting on my shoulder. “Wanna know how you’re beautiful?” he whispered. I hesitantly nodded, glancing back and forth between my reflection and his eyes staring at me in the mirror. While humming What Makes You Beautiful he pulled up my hoodie and moved my jeans down a little so my hips were visible. Each little scar was visible. New and old he grazed his hand across them while I flinched away only to back up into him.

“Your smile lights up the room without even needing to turn on the lights. Your laugh can turn anyone’s mood for the better. Your arms give the best hugs ever, like when I’m sick and we watch cartoons all day. You make me feel better than any medicine could. Your personality in the way that you’re not obnoxious and rude, but sarcastic in the right moment.” He stopped, took a deep breath and said, “You. You are a one of a kind and anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend, sister, girlfriend, bodyguard, mother, wife or anything. In my book you could stand on top of the world shine as bright as you want, because you’re different and unique in your own way that makes you beautiful” again he reached up to wipe the tears. I turned around and hugged him for a very long time. I felt like an eternity could have gone by and it wouldn’t have mattered because, I was in the arms of someone who truly cares and would give anything to see me live the rest of my life to the fullest. Anyone could say I looked good, or pretty, or sexy even, but it took words from someone special to make it sink in. That someone special is Niall Horan.

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