She thought it wasn't supposed to be like this. This was love. And love was painful.
His lips traveled from her forehead to her ear and nibbled her lobe softly. The way his long fingers ran through her soft red locks gave her chills rather than comfort. She recalled the way her mother ran a brush through her hair when she was a child, back when the world was still filled with color. When she just lived and everything was good.
He pressed himself against her, closer, and closer. He was warm, but her blood ran cold. She always let this happen because he wanted it, because she thought she loved him and he in return. But it felt like nothing. It always felt like nothing.
Her movements were robotic. Her body responded, but her mind felt empty. She touched his soft, fiery hair, still wet from his shower, the hair she used to admire from afar. She looked into his eyes, the orbs of her favorite shade of green that always pierced through her. Everything about him was perfect. Too perfect. All eyes drew to him. But she finally saw through him. He was cold. A facade. A mirror of her worst fears. She thought her heart had healed when she met him, but he cut open the gaps even more.
But she stayed. Because he was right. He was always right. She needed him. He needed her. It was logical for them to be together. It was logical for them to stay together. He would take care of her and she, in return, would give him what he wanted. It was a good bargain. It was how love worked. Give and ye shall receive. Painful as it was, it was how it worked, how everything worked.
A hiss escaped his mouth and he finished. He rolled off her to his side of the bed, leaving her feel emptier than before. She could imagine the look of contentment on his face, the face that preferred to gaze at the wall rather than her. She could easily reach out to him, but he would likely reject her.
Instead, she stood and wobbled to the restroom. She kept an extra set of pajamas in there at all times. She hated it when his eyes followed her naked body. But this time, after shutting the door, she looked in the mirror that stood at the end of the bathroom. He dripped out of her, he ran down her legs, and he stained her. She walked closer to the mirror. Bags were still under her eyes, no matter the treatment he recommended to her. She ran her fingers over her reflection, touching her tired eyes. She remembered doing the same once, a long time ago, when she and her sister once played dress-up in the princess dresses their mother made for them. Her sister used her secret stash of makeup and made her into a piece of art. Their father caught them, and they begged him to not to tell their mother. He kissed them on the heads and called them both beautiful, no matter what they wore, then left the room after making his promise. Oh, she missed him dearly.
The mirror no longer held the beauty of childhood, and instead replaced it with a tired and broken woman.
Who am I?" she whispered, a tear running down her left cheek. All she felt was pain. Pain and longing. Pain, longing, and loneliness. Pain from nothing, longing from something, and loneliness from everything.
I think it had to do with a characterization idea that went through my head for another project. Imagine Anna being in a relationship that she thought would be blissful, but then spiraled down...slowly...slowly...until she felt she couldn't leave.
I welcome critiques. It's my first time publishing something. Thank you for reading.
Edit 03/23/17: A few minor word choice edits and adding in a word or two.