reflection
Reflection
Sable hair, ivory
skin, pale blue eyes; a handsome face.
He sees his
reflection in the still waters of the lake, and he loathes it.
The always smiling/
smirking face. Ever emotional. Showing thoughts and feelings,
though try as he may to suppress them and mask them, they just
appeared easily. Always.
A charming face.
Recognisable. All the time. Too ordinary. Too much like the rest.
Too much like him,
the namesake. A Muggle, at that, and one not worthy enough to
live. A dead man. He carried a dead man's face. It may have been
handsome, but every contour of it still reminded him of pain,
betrayal... Death. Underneath that smooth, pale blanket, it was
probably slowly rotting.
He dashes at the
cold water furiously, water drops spraying everywhere, the only
sound for miles around. His image is gone, and the droplets begin
to collect together again, slowly, to reform themselves, a new
birth of sorts, creating a new, strange stillness in the lake.
He looks at the
water oddly. He can't see his face yet.
He tilts his head,
then, whispering an incantation, well learned, he points the wand
at his eyes.
A slight shock, he
shakes his head, then... nothing.
He looks into the
clear water once more. The water's pieced itself back again.
He can see his
face. And all of a sudden it's all the more frightening.
His eyes are a
darker hue- red, perhaps? They're different from the awkward
blue. So much more than just 'icy'. They can burn you. Scald,
scorch, and scar you. They're strong. They dominate.
They rove the water's surface greedily, searching for other
imperfections to gorge out and eliminate. A flicker here, a
flicker there... there's a flame burning in those eyes.
Thirsting. It's hungry. Hungry for the firewood it deserves,
though it has enough fuel to keep it burning a lifetime. Nobody
would be able to read his eyes now. The enclosed flame was so hot
you avoided it, and thus, would avoid his eyes. It guarded the
emotions fighting to get out, so all you saw was a fire's ever-
flicker. No warmth could be sought from this fire.
He blinks twice.
Once to shake himself out of this strangely wonderful thought of
being ever- unreadable, and once for clarity of the mind. To come
back to the dirty brown earth. To hard reality.
But all he sees is
a powerful young man opposite him, in these pristine, truthful
waters.
And for once, he
is this powerful stranger. Not some strange young man on his
travels. But a powerful stranger.
He smiles, a little
smile, to himself.
It was time to
transform. Further than ever before. Soon he'd be rid of the dead
man's face, then...
Then, the terror
could slowly untwirl.
A/N: It's a bit
weird, bit pointless, but there you go. Just a lil' description
thing ^^.