Self-para 001.
“I’m fine,” he lies staring at his reflection in the mirror. Perfectly combed hair, a confident smile, straight posture, expensive clothes. ( Hair full of damaging products to maintain an image, a smile with sharp ripped edges, forever-tense shoulders, clothes bought with an abusive husband’s money. ) His complexion looks pale ( paler than usual ) and he forcibly widens the curve of his lips, he doesn’t stop even when it starts looking unnatural.
His chest feels tight with emotions he refuses to face, with memories he refuses to remember. It’s easy, he tries to convince himself, it’s easier to pretend than to be real. Fake smiles are easier to swallow than bitter truths. Authenticity is overrated anyway. No one really wants the real thing, people see what they want to see and are happy with it. Elijah Selwyn, the adored Slytherin with a friendly disposition and promiscuity no one really resents him for. It’s easier to continue being bright Elijah. To pretend as if everything hadn’t fallen down like dominoes over the summer. He has plenty of friends, doesn’t he? The lack of one is nothing to cry about – even though the lack of Archibald’s companionship is something he misses every day with a heavy heart –.
It’s easier to smile charmingly at Scorpius and continue to pretend as if he doesn’t notice that his feelings are absolutely pointless. Talking with Albus is fun, isn’t it? Debating with Melinoë never fails to make his afternoons interesting. And Max, sweet Max is always there to give his life meaning ( except elijah knows something is utterly wrong; what is his friend hiding? what did elijah do to stop being someone the other boy trusts wholeheartedly? ). “Everything’s fine,” he continues to lie.
His mother, resourceful and loving mother’s life motto has always been “We’re fine, Eli. We’re always fine.” She said the exact same thing the night before he was supposed to board the train which would take him far away from the place he should call home but never had been able to. They are fine, of course they are. No matter how they sign their letters, they are Beauchamps before they are Selwyns and Beauchamps endure it all.
Elijah is the perfect student, perfect son, perfect friend. ( Not good enough to be Head Boy. A disappointment to his family name. Always liked, never loved. No one’s first choice. No one questioning his vague answers. No one really getting too interested. He is pretty to look at after all; nobody wants to see beyond his pretty blue eyes and soft blond hair. Sometimes he yearns for someone, anyone to notice the deception in his smiles. ) “I’m fine.” Finally, he’s able to convince himself ( like he does every day ) and he nods satisfied. He has the urge to fidget with his tie, but already feels the ghost of his mother’s swats on his hands and so he doesn’t. For a moment, he’s not sure what he’s still doing staring at his reflection. Feeling resigned, exhausted, stressed, he leaves the room, knowing that there’s a prefect meeting in less than twenty minutes. It just wouldn’t do to be late, would it?
