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."