•esther gray•➳{h.s}

↬vii -hold her-

•Previously•

"Esther Gray." Terra whispered softly. The opposing girl looked towards her for the first time upon hearing her full name, her eyes holding an unknown emotion. An emotion of alharaea.

"Yes?" She replied with equal fragility, as if her voice would break the world around her.

"It's okay."

"Whats okay?"

"Everything will be okay."

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"Foods ready!" Harry's deep voice rang throughout the apartment as Terra and Gray scurried on either sides of Zayn. Harry was a great cook, so axiomatically everyone was excited to eat .

He set down the plate full of pork chops in the middle and gave a queasy smile to Zayn before setting down another plate in front of him that resembled veal.

"Here you go, Zayn." Harry sat down beside Gray as everyone started to dig in.

"You don't eat pork?" Gray inquired airily, not touching her food.

"Yeah, I-like, don't eat pig." He mumbled slowly. Gray gave an understanding smile before the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Terra hopped up excitedly and ran to the front door. Quinn Brígh. She waltzed in, multiple shopping bags hanging off her long arms. Harry awkwardly smiled and stood up.

"Hey Quinn." Zayn turned around as she took a seat and gave Terra a side hug. All a sudden, Gray felt out of place. She didn't really belong here, they were friends and she was just a blunt stranger intruding. She felt awkward and unwanted as everyone conversed together, not even giving her a second look as she was at the corner of table, quiet. As she going to get up felt a large hand on her thigh, stopping her midway. She was met with the comforting eyes of Harry and a hearty smile plastered on his face, telling her to stay. She shuffled back and picked up her fork, but his warm hand never left her thigh. Even if she wasn't wanted here, she was needed by one person.

"So what did you do today, Gray?" Quinn surprised her by starting a conversation as she subconsciously felt everyone gaze direct to her.

"Nothing." Her voice was clipped and tantamount to one that was not even hers. As soon as Gray finished her plate she stood up, dunked it in the sink and shuffled towards Harry's room and shut the door behind her. It was happening again. She tugged at her hair and pulled the ends of the loose shirt. Her mind raced with open ended questions that ate her mind away. This was why she was a misanthropist. She hated being being in a group of people she didn't know, she hated being uncomfortable, she hated relying on someone, but most of all she hated being this insecure. She hated, but unlike Harry she couldn't find love and thats what bothered her the most, she was fighting her own sciamachy. She was experiencing alharaea once more, that the subtlety of one thing could trigger.

She found herself in front of the full length mirror, staring at herself intensely. Her eyes bore into her reflection as she glanced down in melancholy, not able to stare at herself any longer. The inventor of the mirror poisoned the human heart, it made individuals feel insecure and imperfect when in reality they didn't know what perfect was, they just ultimately assumed that they weren't the definition of the tawdry idea of perfect.

The grey shirt hung low on her thighs, almost reaching her pink knees, her hair a mussed disarray from constant tugging and her lips a febrile pink. She was frenzied, so very angry that today was the day she had to realize that she wasn't wanted anywhere. Her parents, no, not even her parents wanted her. She was never balanced, she was never hinged. She either ate too much or starved herself, slept for 16 hours or had insomnia. Fell in love too fast or hated fervently. She didn't know what grey was. She never did.

Doleful tears brimmed in her eyes but she wouldn't permit them to spill so instead she turned her lugubriousness into wrath. She did not want to be in this vulnerable position, facing the antagonist, herself.

"God!" She exhorted to herself as her head snapped away. She scowled at the mirror, she didn't want her to be here. She only wanted her indigenous self.

"Gray."

"Gray."

"Gray!"

He said her name three times as he looked at her. She looked lucidly exhausted, her eyes lidded and rings around her eyes. She did not respond but instead ignored his call. As he stepped forward, he cautiously placed his hand on her shoulder. She tensed up for a moment before leaning into her callous touch. She needed affection. She thrust herself into his arms as they immediately wrapped around her, his chin leaning on her head.

"Harry?" She shakily exhaled. His heart clenched as he heard the anguish in her voice.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Help me."

shes so beautiful yet so sad
always saying no one likes her,yet when someone does, she runs and hide.

silly girl,
they like you,
you just don't like yourself.