She thought she was ugly, that she didn’t deserve anything, and no one would love her. She was young, too innocent to face this world. Too scared to be on her own. She gave love but she received hate.
Misery.
She hated being so empty, so cold. Her teary eyes would stare at her reflection in the mirror every night, questioning what she did do to deserve this. She would sob till the point her throat was sore, as small waves of pain would keep her awake. In the morning her eyes would reflect her tiredness. Many people wouldn’t even care. But he would. He would notice that every time she would enter the café, her aura would become heavier, weighting her down. She would approach the counter, asking for her usual tea, and he would always smile. He would try to bring some kind of joy inside her. He would say small jokes, corny ones, where he would himself cringe, but seeing a small, tiny smile from her would make everything worth it.
Love.
He loved the way her eyes shone every time he would say something. How she would laugh at his clumsiness. He loved the way her hair would gracefully lay on her pillow, as he watched her sleep. His heart would swell every time she would kiss his nose as a goodbye. He loved the way she loved him.