a mirror can hold your DESTINY

Mirrors


She looked into the mirror before her.

Her heart sank.

Her eyes ran down her reflection – loose hairs trailing down her forehead, sweeping off to the side.

Soft features – strong at the same time. She ran her fingers across her cheekbones, down her neck, along her breasts.

Over her stomach, down her leg.

Irene Adler. Destiny.

A woman so few actually knew. Did she even ever know herself?

So lost in a world of visions – in what could come. What would come?

Constantly at war with her thoughts, living in a world of today and trapped in a world of tomorrow.

Loved.

Her nails were a perfect length – a compliment to each perfect digit which preceded them.

Perfect.

She removed her tinted glasses, staring into the two glossy orbs with regret. A wound so deep only layer upon layer of hatred could hide.

The woman leaned forward into her reflection, eyes open, coming so close to the mirror that only a blur remained before her.

Her lips touched the glass – cold, inhuman.

It was unbearable.

It had never felt like that.

Defeated again, Mystique shifted slowly into her own form – her near translucent skin deepening into a cerulean, her silver hair dawning its true crimson form.

Her own eyes stared at her true reflection before closing.

"I love you, Irene."