⊰ — listen to: perfect by selena gomez, I wrote this based on that song <3
⊰ — summary: how far will you go to be loved? even if it means you having to change into something perfect?
⊰ — warnings: cheating partner, very, very, very slight suggestive smut?, kinda low self-worth for y/n? (idk how to word it differently but watch out fOR THAT) y/n wanting to be someone else, lotta lowkey/mild angst?
⊰ — author's note: please don’t take this too seriously! this is a work of fiction! I really hope this doesn’t offend anyone by writing this, I’ve always wanted to write a little story based on the lyrics of this song even since I first heard it. please don’t read if you think this would make you uncomfortable! I tried to write this gender neutral but if I use any certain pronouns for y/n, please tell me/bear with me! also, sorry for any typos/weird sounding sentences and for using a lot of commas :)) I hope u enjoy!! you are wonderful just the way you are, please don’t ever forget that <3
"do you love her?” you ask. to your surprise, you say it without your voice cracking. you sound firm, and you’re wondering how that could be when on the inside, you’re breaking.
you shift your eyes to look at him. him. the one you love. the one who you thought loved you. but if he loved you, how could he do this? how could he do this to you?
you’re both sitting on the bed you shared together. all the late nights staying up together under the covers, just talking until the sun rose up, talking about anything and everything. all the countless times where you just stared into each other’s eyes and in awe of how love you had between you. the times where you both felt comfortable in each other’s arms, taking everything in, letting everything go, letting you both admire each other in ways only lovers admire. lovers, huh.
mark doesn’t look back at you, although you’re sure he could feel your eyes on him. he stares off into space, slowly rubbing his hands together.
it felt like an eternity, until he finally answered you.
you already knew the answer, so why did you even ask?
you felt something different when he didn’t say his usual greeting to you in the mornings.
“good morning beautiful,” he would say when you have just woken up, still having bed head and morning breath. he would then kiss your forehead, then your cheeks, then your nose, then planting a passionate, yet quick kiss on your lips would usually follow.
but he had stopped doing that. that’s when you noticed something was wrong.
you kept on thinking you had done something. sure, you would have little fights about stupid things. why didn’t you clean up after yourself? why didn’t you do the dishes like I told you to do? things like that. but, then you both stopped having fights like that.
he began to become distant. therefore, there was nothing to fight about.
you thought maybe you weren't showing enough affection for him like he would for you. you tried to be more loving, more romantic. buying him things. hugging him more. giving him unexpected pecks on the cheeks, you knew he loved those. you used to do that to him all the time and he would always blush, smile real big and tackle you to give you more kisses. but, he soon got tired of you kissing him all the time and he told you to stop. other times he wouldn't say anything at all. he would just ignore you.
you both would ask how was each other’s days. him always being the first one to ask you, not that you didn’t want to ask him, but when he came home from practice the first thing he would do is hug and kiss you, then ask how your day went. he would always have a smile on his face when he asked. would always have a smile on his face when he saw you run to him when he opened the door. when he waited for you to jump in his arms and spin you around. if anyone else could see those greetings, they would think you missed each other because he was gone for a couple months, not a couple of hours.
he would tell you every single detail of how his day went, even the unimportant ones. “the water in the practice room was warm today,” or “jisung was being really cute today.” but when he had come home, when you already knew something was wrong, he never held out his arms to greet you. his smile would be replaced with a frown. not an angry or sad frown, but just a normal frown. like he wasn’t that excited to see you. like there was something more important on his mind. it killed you not knowing what it was.
then you began to encounter things that would deepen the doubt you had. first, it was the words he would say at night when he would be sleeping. the name of a woman you don't remember him mentioning of ever knowing. saying things about her that he used to only say about you. then it was the smell. the feminine, floral scent on his clothes and on his skin. the scent that you did not wear. the scent you began to hate.
until you began to wonder, what it is about this new infatuation that made him turn away from you? you listened to him at night, smelled his clothes, and began pondering over what she did to him to make him fall for her. what do you do different that doesn't make him lust after you?
you wonder how she touches him, his body, and his heart and if you could do it too. you wonder how she laughs and how she makes him laugh. oh, how her laugh must be like to have it curving off her back for him. you even wonder to the point of you, yourself, whispering her name in your sleep. dreaming of how you could be like her. dreaming of how beautiful she must be. dreaming of how perfect she must be.
you sharply inhaled. that one word makes your heart drop down to your stomach, immediately feeling the sharp pain that felt like it was in your throat as you try and hold back your tears that were already falling.
you already knew the answer. what made you think he would say anything different?
out of the corner of your eye, you see mark get off the bed, lifting up his hand as if he was going to say something, but doesn't. instead he just shakes his head and walks out of the former room you two shared.
you get up and follow him out of the room and towards the front door where he was heading. you wanted to say something to him, anything, but before you could you now see the boxes by the door which you hadn't before. boxes filled with his clothes and his personal things. the boxes that would be, no doubt, going to her place. the perfect one that you both dreamt of.
the sight of those boxes made the words you wanted to say no longer on the tip of your tongue or in your head. your brain now replaces the words with the gorgeous made up face you think his current lover wears. that perfect face.
he bent down to lift one of the boxes and put it onto another, picked those two up and open the front door. he leaves the door open as you do nothing and just watch him walk down your front lawn, opening the trunk to his car and putting his boxes in. he then walks back up to your door and does the same thing, never looking back or up at you. never saying a word.
eventually he picks up the last box, the tears you once shed are beginning to dry down your neck, he almost walks through the doorway before he stops for a few seconds and turns to the side. not fully facing you nor the outside world and looks at the wooden doorway. secretly wondering if he's really doing this, if he's really in control or just on autopilot. he tries to think what to say or if he should anything. but is there any words that would comfort you from what he's doing to you?
from what feels like forever, mark finally looks at you and you just stare at his box. the last box that holds the last of his stuff in your house. the last thing that's keeping him there. you want to start begging on your knees for him to stay, to say that you'll be like her, that you'll act like her if only he stays. the other half of you wanting to kick the box out of his hands and make him tell you who she is. however, the only thing you do is stand there, the only thing your body lets you do.
"I'm sorry," he chokes out. he looks at you for a moment longer and then he finally leaves and closes the door. closing the door to the house you shared together, to the life you had together, to the love you had for one another, and to you; the one soul who he was supposed to love for the rest of his life until he found another, perfect one to care for.
