When Karen applies her makeup in the morning, she practices her smile in front of the mirror before she leaves for work.
Foundation. Yes, everything is okay.
Mascara. No, I don't need to talk.
Blush. Thank you for believing in me.
Eyeliner. I can do this on my own.
She has to stop herself before she puts too much concealer on. With a smart amount of lipstick and the tapping of her heels. Karen leaves the apartment.
It's all a waste of time, probably. He's blind and can't even see if she's smiling. She tries it once, out of curiosity- she stares at him as she jokes with him, her tone lighthearted and playful. Her lips do not curve into the grin her voice promises.
He never said anything about it, although he was quiet, keeping a respectful distance for the rest of the day. Then again, Matt always does that, as if he has something more important to him than smiling at her and talking to her while she sorts through his papers and saves his job and brews coffee that only she likes. But she is pretty sure that he wasn't able to tell. At least, she doesn't think so. She's not sure. She never is.
Her fingers are wrapping around the pen. Her fingers are wrapping around the trigger.
With a start, she breathes in sharply and wills the thought away. She pulls out her phone and checks her reflection in the empty screen.
Good. Her makeup is still in place.
Karen uncaps the pen and begins to write. On the sheet, the ink bleeds red.
