Chapter Text
Wrench glared at his reflection in the mirror, picking every flaw apart in his mind until he’s tempted to either break the mirror (again), or claw at his face until it bleeds. Y/N had made it their mission to reassure that they love how he looks, going as far as scream out into the world that he’s the most “beautiful motherfucking boyfriend I’ve ever and will ever have.” But when Wrench is alone with his thoughts, and he stares at his unmasked face, he can’t help but hate himself.
My eyes are too sunken in, and fuck, they’re not even a pretty ocean blue. Ugly glazed over glass is more like it, like there’s no soul in them. I don’t have a sharp chiseled jaw like the celebrities that Y/N fawns over, and my chin’s one wrinkle away from looking like a butt. And my nose… it’s not sharp and sturdy, it’s flat and gross. I look like a fucked up bird. And then that. The disgusting birthmark on the side of my fucking face. I look like a permanent burn victim. How can Y/N love someone like me? They’re beautiful, kind, funny. I don’t deserve them. The thoughts went through his head faster than he could code and with a frustrated scream, Wrench drove his fist into the mirror, shattering it beyond recognition and leaving a bloody trail.
“Fuck!” Wrench screamed both from his frustration and pain, pulling his fist back to observe the damage towards his hand. Not too deep, but it’s bleeding like a cut artery. Wrench assessed, absently running the warm water and sticking his hand under the faucet. “Gotta get this wrapped up.” he sighed, turning the water off and grabbing the roll of toilet paper, wrapping his hand with layers upon layers to staunch the bleeding.
Two hours later, when Wrench had exited the small donut shop, an employee cried in despair at the state of the broken mirror.
It was early in the morning when Wrench arrived at Sitara’s front door and… knocked politely.
A few seconds passed, and when there was no response on the other side of the door, Wrench knocked again. No matter how much Wrench needed Sitara’s help, there was no way that he was dumb enough to piss the woman off first thing in the morning.
After a few minutes of knocking, the door pulled open and a very sleepy Sitara stood at the threshold on the door, large T-shirt slipping off one shoulder in her usual style. “Wrench, do you have any idea how early it is?”
“Or late.” Wrench shrugged, trying to make light of his disruption into her private life.
“Wrench.” Sitara ground out with a glare, “What. Do. You. Want.”
Seeing how it wasn’t the proper moment to be making jokes, Wrench’s shoulders slouched a little as he lifted his hand to show Sitara the bag of cosmetics in his hand. “I uh… need some help learning how to put this shit on.”
The hostility dissolved from the sleepy female’s face when she noticed that Wrench seemed oddly defeated for once. Sighing, Sitara took the bag from Wrench’s grasp and rummaged through its contents, observing the various brands and uses with furrowed brows. “Wrench?”
“Hm?”
Sitara withdrew a dark hand to hold up a color palette. “Why do you have eye shadow in here?”
“You mean I don’t need it?” Wrench, for all his genius, seemed genuinely confused.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Sitara gestured with her hand for Wrench to follow her into the house. “Come on. We’ve only got the rest of the morning.”