It's important to know that this story portraits femmeslash - girl/girl, lesbianism, call it the way you preffer -, even though it's a platonic relationship. Don't like it? Don't read it.
It's also a translation of a story that I originally wrote in portuguese. I'm actually testing my english, so sorry for any grammar errors (:
I didn't understand why you embellished yourself that much, Silena.
Since the beginning, I found you really futile - because yes, the truth is that there was a war about to burst and change everyone's life, and you were still willing to lose your time brushing your hair a hundred times a day, to spend hours and hours into aesthetic treatments, like there was nothing more important to be done.
"It's all about valorizing oneself, Clarisse. You should try it, it's good for your self-esteem", you tried to explain me in a summer day in camp. Your golden hair sparkled under the sun, giving me the impression that you were illuminated like some kind of angel.
And, in fact, that comparison wasn't too far from reality.
Lately, you were showing yourself a nicer person than I would ever imagine. You've seen to be the only one capable of thinking that the rough counselor of cabin 5 had, nonetheless, a heart: and after some love advices and other conversations about things that were completely new to me, we were discussing vanities, like happened in this moment.
I couldn't think in anything nice enough to be answered - your resplendent figure was messing up my head, getting my thoughts out of track. Faced with my silence, you simply smiled like you understand my embarrassment, like you respected it. However, I doubt it that you were able to perceive the attraction that was acting on me.
Because the red of your lipstick, framing the two rows of perfectly white teeth, made yours the most beautiful smile among the daughters of Aphrodite. That's when I realized that, after all, you were dedicated to become even more lovely than you already was - and I couldn't think that it wasn't cruel, Silena.
Because some days after that, when I couldn't resist the growing temptation and decided to discover if your lips were as soft as they were inviting, you pushed me with a scared look on your face and told me that it was wrong, that you only loved Beckendorf.
But if someone was wrong in all this story, it was you. You were wrong just because you were who you are and a little bit more of this. Because you were so kind and welcoming, because you were beautiful and captivating enough to make me love you and, then, don't reciprocate my feelings and leave me alone with a hurt pride and half-dozen tears.
And I don't understand, yet, why you embellish yourself that much if you insist to say that you never wanted to hurt anybody, Silena.