Lenalee
She hadn't noticed it at first but now it was constantly on her mind. The clenching of the hands. The tightening of the chest. The blurring of the room.
Everything about it set her off.
The fake, infuriating smiles that had kept her walking on their accursed path waiting for her to trip and fall down to the depth of her mind. She could just imagine it.
And that upset her the most. That she was scared of a stupid, counterfeit smile that would never be worth the genuine. She was scared of it. And nothing she did would prevent the small sting of fear from appearing on her heart that would slowly crawl to the rest of her body.
So she went along copying him, pretending was fine when obviously, it wasn't. In a way, a sad and sickening way, she had acquired a mask as well to combat it. The mask disgusted her. Made her want to throw up but each time he put his up, her's went up. It was instinct. It was simple. She hated it.
She hated everything about that mask. More than the people who had tested and prodded her for just being who she was. It paled in comparison to that damned mask who made her see red.
But she was scared of what it could do. She was scared of what he would be like without it. Would he be the same? Or... would he be a monster?
She doubted she would ever know so when he flashed her that sad (fake) smile, her own mask went up.
Her mask went up to hide the tears that would shimmer before silently falling down like how she would with the steep path that tugged her to the end.
A silent but hopeful death.
It's what she deserved.
(It's what she wanted.)
