gentlemenpreferblondes: (And all that it meant to me)
J. M. Austen ([personal profile] gentlemenpreferblondes) wrote in [community profile] thisavrou_log 2017-11-24 01:22 am (UTC)

[That sounds something that she can understand.

No matter how much she's painted her face, dressed up or decorated herself with different accessories she had always been painfully aware of what's underneath all of that -- or rather what's not. She had believed in the painting she allowed others see and almost devoured by the illusion.

But not anymore.

She stays silent for another stressed beat as she feels the bitterness caused by the hurt raise again from somewhere deep of her core. It spreads through her muscles and bones and snakes up along her body -- but with a heavy breath she keeps it down on her shoulders, feeling the prickly spikes warming her tense muscles]


What is it that scares you?

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