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Beautiful To Me :AmericaXReader:Warning: Sensitive material ahead. If you are uncomfortable with reading about bulimic activities, please don't go any further.
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Her steps are clumsy and desperate as she stumbles along the hard and tiled floor.
She falls to her knees, grasping the cold, porcelain sides with trembling fingers.
She stares down into the watery depths, hot pricks of saltwater threatening to drip down her cheeks. A whimper and sob, caged deep in her chest, refuse to be let loose. It is a sign of weakness. She can’t be weak--not now. Not when she’s come this far.
Make everything go away.
All the voices swirl around in her mind. Taunting, cruel, ruthless, inhuman. All the comments, all the words that were said, rising up in a wave of turmoil. She had lasted this long, just taking the rebuttal with a blank slate for a face. She couldn’t do it anymore. She just couldn’t.
Everything has to go away.
Before she knows it, she
Artist!America x Artist!Reader Once in a Lifetime
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Artist!America x Artist!Reader
Setting down your paintbrush on a table, you took the chance to take in your finished art work. On the canvas, a pair of bright, powder blue irises stared at you. The portrait you had painted was of your ex-boyfriend, who you had recently broke-up with. Sighing, you walked to your bathroom with the dirty brushes and set them in the sink to wash later. You combed you fingers through your (h/l) (h/c) hair to remove all the dried paint.
." you let out a halfhearted smile, seeing the blotch of red paint on the tip of your nose. It was the type of thing you would have laughed at with Alfred.
Alfred F. Jones, that was the name of your ex. You had dated him for nearly 5 years, after meeting him in your junior year of high school. Up until you met him, you had thought you were going to be alone for the rest of your life. You had dated several other guys, but you couldn't say that y