Dedicated to ziiya21 ❤
and till the end you're my very best friend
-anonymous
May 7th:
Mara gazes at her crystal clear reflection in the mirror. The girl peering back at her has the same brushed out honey hair, inching towards her shoulder blades. She has the same piercing blue eyes and the same trademark smirk. Her cheekbones are a little more sunken in, but otherwise, her face structure is identical to Mara's.
But she doesn't see herself looking back at her.
She sees the person who she wished to be at a young age. The same person she will now stare at in distaste. Mara's awkward, lanky structure is covered in a rose gold silk fabric. It is tight-fitting dress, enough so that you can make out the dips in her figure.
She hates herself for liking the way the girl in the mirror looks fitted to the fabric. Her hands, smoothing down the material as she twists to see her back in the mirror. Spinning once, just for the fun of it, she tries to rid herself of her smile.
The heels, tightly strapped around her ankles, add to her already tall height. She hates herself more than anything for expertly walking in them. Her long legs, tanned from sitting in the sun, on display with the small slit on the right side of the floor-length dress.
In a sudden mood change, she drops the hatred act. It won't get her anywhere, and she does like the way she looked in this dress. Mara feels overly bold strutting up to Elias, euphoric even, as she makes her curves noticeable. She knows she looks good, so she embraces it.
"Thoughts?" She walks as if the pathway to him is a runway. She did some modeling in her youth, so she has a basic idea of what she is doing. Posing with her hands on her hips, she smirks as Elias's sparkling eyes rake over her.
She feels hot everywhere, sparks kindling in her veins. An exciting sort of heat that fuels the tension building in the pit of her stomach.
"Well, what do you think? On a scale of Victoria Secret to Charlie's Angels." She glances over at herself in the body-length mirror, snatching a display necklace from the stand close to it. Placing the array of pearls against her creamy skin, they hang just below her protruding collarbone.
"Well, come on," she laughs, poking Elias out of his daze.
'Speechless,' he signs, shaking his head. A small smile plays on his lips at her arrogance, the way she stares a little harder at herself in the mirror. She is so comfortable in her own skin. Effortlessly beautiful as he'd described her the first time they met.
"Well, duh, you can't talk. But what do you think about the dress?" She snickers at Elias's teasing frown. He pokes her in the side, shaking his head.
'You look beautiful, Mara,' he grins.
She bobs her head as if she is agreeing with him. Mara realizes that although her arms are too long for her body, and her bones stick out at weird angles, she is pretty. Everyone is, in their own unique way, so she embraces her intrinsic beauty.
"Great, it fits. We can leave." She huffs, wandering back to the perfume-smelling fitting room. She stares at herself a minute longer in the mirror, taking in this version of herself before she disappears behind altered clothing. Back into ripped jeans, band t-shirts.
As she hangs the dress up on the wall for the store woman to come and get it, she realizes the ivory pearls are still draped around her neck. Making sure the stall is locked, she waits. Trying hear the sound of any heels clicking against the tiled flooring, she hears none.
Swiftly she stuffs the pearls down to the very dark bottom of her backpack, underneath the most recent books she's hijacked from the library. Some clothes are in there too. Mara always carries clothing with her just in case she needs to crash somewhere other than home. Laughing lightly at herself, she shakes her head in the mirror, pinning her blonde hair back up into a messy bun.
The reflection looking back at her is the real Mara. The jagged ends of a girl who could have so much but was dealt so little. She can afford to buy the necklace with her mother's money, sure. But there is more fun in the act of stealing it, going against the Gray family inheritance.
Glancing to either side of her, she struts towards Elias with the same amount of confidence as before, if not more; now wearing clothing she was more comfortable with. She is radiating, a bright smile playing on her lips as she meets his eyes.
He stands up from the armchair he had been relaxing in, waiting for Mara's directions. She had asked for him to come, of course he agreed. He seems to do that a lot, serve at her command.
And she always seemed to want him around.
"Did it work, Miss Gray?" The woman with an Australian accent asks, hanging up some dresses on the rack. Her light blonde hair is slicked back with a pencil, her smoky eyes watching Mara.
"Yes, I'll make sure to let my mother know," Mara turns on her priss voice. It is the one she uses at the galas and charity events her mother drags her to.
The woman bows her head, traveling into the dressing room to bring Mara's dress back with the other bridesmaid dresses. Mara uses this chance to escape, dragging Elias with her in a haste. She laughs the entire way to the corner cafe, keeping her bag hung low on her shoulders. It hits against her back a few times, the pearls bouncing around at the bottom.
'What is so funny?' Elias stares at her weirdly, lingering by the glass door. She shoves him into the tender cafe, stumbling behind him. Shaking her head, she heads towards the counter where a man with almost skin so pale it's almost iridescent is serving another woman.
Soft chatter fills around them, most of the tables occupied by students and mothers. A few businesspeople linger at the counter chairs, newspapers in hand.
Mara turns around quickly, wrapping her arms around Elias' waist. He hugs her back, so surprised by the instant touch that he doesn't even have a chance to be afraid of it. He can smell her coconut hair products, the top of her head just grazing below his nose.
Encircling his arms around her shoulders, he hugs her to his chest tightly. His other hand, holding her head against his heart, his fingers brushing against her cheek.
"I'm just happy," she whispers into the fabric of his t-shirt. Her ear rests against his erratic heartbeat, listening to the electric vibrations. With his chin on her head, she can feel him nodding in agreement. He is content to, the happiest he has been in a while.
Suddenly she is pushed away from him, frowning at the loss of heat and touch. Elias only laughs at her pout, pointing towards where the man now waits for them. He looks bored, waiting for them, tapping his pen anxiously on the metal counter.
"Two coffees, please," Mara speaks at him, her sour mood turning chipper. She is bouncing on the balls of her feet, rubbing her hands together as a big smile overtakes her frown. Like a switch has been flipped, her cheery attitude reinstated.
'Donuts?' Elias signs as the man shuffles over to the fancy coffee makers. There are a million of them running, the strong smell of coffee beans attacking their senses. Instantly they both feel more alert, calming into the soft aroma of the room.
'We can go to Rafi's for that, later.' Mara responds in sign language. She refers to the bakery they went to during the blizzard. When she gifted him the notebook that, to this day, he still keeps hidden under his pillow.
The notebook is their words.
Taking the steaming beverage the man offers them, Mara grips onto Elias's warm hand. Dragging him to the booth in the shaded corner, she slides into the cushioned seat next to him. He is pushed against the window, Mara leaving little space between them. Their legs brush against each others under the table, her knee bouncing anxiously.
The coffee is boiling, steam from it curling towards the ceiling. Mara takes eager gulps of it before it's pulled away by Elias. He sets it down on his left side, letting her throat adjust to the warm heat, his eyebrows high on his forehead. He just stares at her, his brown hues wide-eyed.
'Should I be giving you this?' He laughs, sipping his own coffee. Slowly, because the liquid is searing hot against his throat. Hot enough he sputters, coughing at the heat, looking at her even crazier for downing it so quickly.
"This is nothing," she shakes her head, reaching over him for it back. He smirks, pushing it farther away from her. She lands almost practically on his lap, his smirk still present as she huffs in amused anger. She isn't mad, but she wants her coffee.
"Common Eli, my headache is only growing. I will punch you," she glares at him. He would have kept the coffee away, but Mara doesn't seem like the type for empty threats.
She scares him a little, not that he will ever admit that.
'Eli?' He questions, his eyebrow quirked. He continues to take hesitant sips while she manages to finish the rest of her coffee in a few gulps. She looks over at him out of the corner of her eyes, her jittery hands playing with the salt and pepper shakers.
"I give all of my friends nicknames," she shrugs, "you just get more than others."
She did, really. Her friend Ryn is the earliest example of a nickname. Mara can't even remember her real name at this point. She's always been Ryn to her.
'How come you don't have any nicknames?' He's only ever heard her be called Mara. It is a short name, but surely she would have at least one nickname.
"Because Mara is a nickname. Or, like, a new name," she laughs, "it's not my real name."
She gave herself the name Mara the first time she was admitted into the hospital. They asked her name at group therapy, and she'd come up with it on the spot. She wanted to discard the name Emanuella, who never seemed to fit her personality.
Emanuella is the weaker version of Mara who she vowed to never be again.
She created Mara from scratch, let her real personality fit her title. She discarded Emanuella like old clothes and tried on a new pair of distressed jeans. Ever since then, she's gone by Mara, except at her house. Her mother refuses her new name.
"My real name is Emanuella," she bites out, clenching her jaw. It feels wrong on her lips, saying that name out loud. Emanuella is dead, dead to her at least.
Elias looks at her, studying the way her sharp eyes harden as her birth name leaves her lips. It is obvious to him that she despises the word. He just doesn't know why. As much as Mara talks, he realizes he doesn't know all that much about her.
All the same, she doesn't really know him all that well.
'I'll call you Emmy then,' he nods along, sipping his coffee. He peers at her over the top of his lid, gauging Mara's reaction.
"If it were anyone else, I would hate it."
- Elias's Journal -
I went dress shopping with a girl today, she looked like a princess. Her smile radiated as she stood before me in pure confidence.
I watched as she fitted herself into a bridesmaid's dress , watched as she smoothed down the fabric. I smiled as she gazed towards herself in the mirror with an even bigger smile than before.
I went dress shopping with a girl today, she looked like a princess. Maybe I wouldn't mind being her prince charming.
---
Authors Note:
Thoughts?
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- <3 Nia
Edited 4/1/22