Parasocial relationship Stories

She liked the smell of jasmine, Though that was not her name. She stared at her reflection. Blotchy skin, eyes too pale to hold color. Her hair was too coarse and not pleasant to touch. She turned on the metronome and began her breathing exercises. First with the breath, then with warm-up stretches, then saluting the sun. Sweat glistened on her awkward body, as she turned on the shower water - cold. Letting it run, she sq...