Enemy Basis | ✓

bonus chapter 4

GRACE

When I was growing up, I used to love my reflection In the mirror.

It was a picture-perfect depiction of my beauty that splayed gloriously underneath the setting sun as the breeze through the window wafted in and tickled the golden tresses of my soft hair. I would look deep into it and cherish the aqua hue of my eyes that contrasted so greatly with the porcelain of my skin. I would bring my perfectly manicured finger to my lips and wallow in the effortless beauty of my Cupid's bow on my rosy lips or the angles on my face against the soft button of my nose.

My mother would come in and claim I was being vain, that I would grow up to be a selfish girl that no one could love.

At first, her words were like poison to my ears, causing a tide of melancholy to wash up in the sea of my eyes and the pits of my heart. For she was right and her words carved into my heart seemed true. Who could love someone who only loved herself too much, too deeply and too vainly?

But as the years passed, I had become to realise that her words didn't hold meaning for they weren't true.

I didn't look at my reflection and admire it for the shallowness of what my mother believed. I didn't look at my perfect expression to calm my raged hunt for vanity. No, I had come to realise the minutes I stared into the glass at the beauty splayed on my face was a moment of reflection, of years of distorted despair.

I wasn't looking because I loved myself too much. I was looking to find something to love when no one had any of theirs to offer to me.

I loved my appearance because it was a concrete thing I could say was something out of my control that was perfect and loveable.

I sighed as I tore my gaze away from the glass.

Today I was feeling horrible and not even these few calming minutes could help me.

I was unlovable. I was broken and more importantly, I was ugly, despite what the mirror tried to tell me instead.

The fragility of my mind sent a wave of pain through me as the echoed contrasts played in my head. Nothing made sense to me anymore.

I picked up my phone without thinking and went onto the chat I always end up on.

His name was splayed on my phone gloriously and my finger hovered on the call button for a second before force pushed me to press down.

My heart was beating so quickly as negative thoughts threatened to push me under and the soft, calming dial was the only thing that was keeping me going until I had my saviour soothe me and fix it all like he usually did.

Except this time was different.

This time showed me that not even Mathew Ravencourt had time for me.

"What do you want Grace?" His tone, harsh and cold slapped me across my face.

Words were caught in my throat. He was never like this to me. What had changed?

"I was just calling because I need to speak to you. I had a really rough da-" I tried to explain, my meek voice sounding pathetic even to my own ears.

"I'm busy. Not now," he interrupted, the harsh undertone the last thing I heard before the even sharper click of the disconnect button.

Disconnected to the one person that could actually fix my problem.

Fix me.

I went to sit on my desk by the window, staring at my reflection, at the sky but also wilfully staring at nothing at all as I forced myself to be numb, to not care, to survive.