She watched them from afar.
She saw them flirt.
She saw them kiss.
She saw them smile at each other happily.
She saw how he looks at her. Like she was the only girl in the world.
She envied her. She got the boy. And she lost.
All she ever wanted was to be loved, nothing else. But he never loved her like how she loved him. She may have like him for his looks but sometime later, she found out the feelings were more bigger than that. She didn't love him because his looks or because he was rich.
She loved everything about him. His flaws, his personality. Everything about him made her swoon. But turns out she was the first to love that about him.
Now all she could do was sit back and watch them be romantic. The thought just made her sad. Not angry or jealous. Just sad.
Her sadness soon turned to depression. Some months later she started having a eating disorder. She refused to leave her room. She stayed isolated in her huge colorful room with varieties of shoes and dresses. She refused to wear them. Only wearing a sweaters and skinny jeans while letting her hair flow down her back. She even refused to wear makeup. Leaving her face in the pale color.
She sobbed from morning to noon. Till her pain and depression got the best of her. She began cutting. She would pull her sweater sleeve to cover the scars when her dad came to visit her after work.
She missed school for almost 3 months. But everyone just shrugged it of, saying she was sick.
She look out the window. She swore she could see them walking down the street, hand in hand and laughing.
One day, she heard a knock on her door. She quickly pulled her sleeve down.
"Come in." She whispered. Her high, squeaky voice everyone described as annoying, turned into something you could barely hear.
She door opened, letting light into her dark room.
"Hon-"
"Just Chloé, dad." She said in her hushed voice.
"C-Chloè. Could you please go out." The mayor begged. She sighed and decided to not talk back.
"Okay, dad." She replied. The mayor was surprised at first but than smiled. "Great!" He said and left.
Chloé sighed and hoped off her bed. She washed her wrist, cleaning the blood off her hand. She sighed deeply at the wounds. They were showing clearly. She caught a glimpse of her makeup. She picked them up and began to apply it, trying to match her skin completion.
When she was done, the scares were barely noticeable.
She changed her sweater and jeans for another pair of the same outfit. She grabbed her black hoodie and sneakers, and walked out the door.
Making her way out the hotel and into the open world felt strange for her. Since she had been locked up in her room for almost 3 months, she totally forgot the feeling of freedom.
She walked with her head down. Her hoodie was over her head so no one could recognize her.
She walked to wherever her feet took her. She finally came to a stop, finding herself in front of the parks fountain.
She decided to take a seat at the edge of the fountain, not realizing that someone was sitting there, sketching away on their sketch pad.
She didn't know till the person spoke. "Hey, are you new here?" They, or more specifically, he said.
The sudden voice startled the blond in the process but see soon realized that she knew that voice. She turned and met turquoise blue eyes of none other but Nathaniël. The schools artist.
"Wait, I know you...Chloé?" He said in a astonishing tone. Chloé quickly turned her head away from the redhead.
"Chloé, what happened to you? I haven't seen you in months. You haven't been coming to school." He spoke. Chloé felt her face harden.
"Why would you care?" She turned and shot him a cold glare. Nathaniël was unfazed by the ever so familiar look.
"Well, someone should." He stated. His gaze dropped to her hands. His eyes widened and he grabbed her wrist. "What's this?" He demanded.
"Nothing." Chloé mumbled.
"Nothing? Chloé you cut!" He cried. "And look at you, you're skinnier than a stick." He said. He didn't want to mention her face though. Cause he didn't want her to think he was a creep. Because he liked her face like this.
"Stop looking at me." Chloé said blankly. The redhead blushed a little shade of pink on his cheek.
He stood up and pulled her up. "What are you doing?" Chloé asked.
"We're going to have lunch!" He spoke.
"I'm not hungry. Goodbye." But before she could walking, he pulled her to him. Her face crushed on his chest. She could fell his hands wrap around her waist.
"Nope. You're eating." He whispered. Chloé let out sigh and rubbed her cheeks against his chest, taking in his scent of vanilla.
(You don't know how tempted I was to write tomato! X'D🍅🍅🍅🍅)
"I want ice cream." She mumbled as her craving for ice cream grew. Nathaniël chuckled and held her shoulders. "Let's go than." He smiled and took her hand, leading the way.
Chloé suppressed a smile. Maybe she didn't need him to feel loved and happy. The only person who could... Is maybe the one that was in front of her, pulling her away from her misery.
Her sweet tomato child.
