Mirror of her Mind
by:Raye
Mina sits before her dresser deep within the Nautilus. Recent events have taken their toll on her peace of mind.
His touch was like poetry.. perhaps even a play. One given to standing ovations at the theatre, if there was such a thing. Every look, every kiss... every caress had been scripted for my benefit, or rather.. his.
In truth, what passed between us, behind the curtains, had been as true as Dorian could be. For his treachery did not dictate the way his hands slid across my skin, the tender touch of his mouth upon my breast... the deep, sweeping thrusts of his body beneath mine.
For a night, he'd filled me... keeping the emptiness at bay.. stopping what was left of my soul from running from my veins and turning me into the icy shell that would one day be my curse... kept me from disappearing into the air for one more night.
So, in a way, I'm sure Dorian would say I should be grateful, really. To some degree... I am. In some little part of me, for his deception was proof enough that I could still feel, even if it was hate.
Ashes to ashes.. he had more than his allotted time on this earth.. it made him weary and listless... allowing his greed and vanity to suffer the loss of his conscience.
She paused before the mirror, pulling the silver brush through the length of her hair, turning it into a glistening mass of vibrant mahogony strands.
I should feel something more for his loss and the violence of his passing, but there is little that can find its way past the guilt that I feel.
I killed him...
His was not the first death that I have caused, but it was the first time that I have killed one that I...
...cared for.
The brush clattered to the table top, knocking over the single bottle of perfume she indulged in, but she felt little concern for the crinkle of breaking glass when the anguish thrumming through her veins roared in her ears.
"Mrs. Harker?"
In the space of heartbeat her image had been joined in the mirror by another, a face ghosted in the glass. She did not start at the site, for it seemed in some corner of her mind that he had always been there... living in the dark.
His voice, cautious and clear pulled my mind free of the maelstrom. "Yes?"
As she lifted her gaze to his, his aching pain was clearly written in the dark centers of his eyes. For of all the gentlemen, he was just as lonely as she.
"I was walking past... and heard the sound of breaking glass. Is there something... amiss?"
"I was just... thinking."
"I see." He nearly turned away, but another thought seemed to o'ertake his mind. "Should you need someone to talk to... You have only... to find me."
My eyes could not deceive me, not with him. For he could hide anything behind his mask of English passivity, but not when I look in his eyes. They mirrored my pain and gave me solace. "Thank you, Henry."
He gave a pause, as if searching for something else to say, but his eyes flickered back to mine with a shaken look. "Well, good-night to you, ...Mina."
And then he was gone.
The End
by:Raye
Mina sits before her dresser deep within the Nautilus. Recent events have taken their toll on her peace of mind.
His touch was like poetry.. perhaps even a play. One given to standing ovations at the theatre, if there was such a thing. Every look, every kiss... every caress had been scripted for my benefit, or rather.. his.
In truth, what passed between us, behind the curtains, had been as true as Dorian could be. For his treachery did not dictate the way his hands slid across my skin, the tender touch of his mouth upon my breast... the deep, sweeping thrusts of his body beneath mine.
For a night, he'd filled me... keeping the emptiness at bay.. stopping what was left of my soul from running from my veins and turning me into the icy shell that would one day be my curse... kept me from disappearing into the air for one more night.
So, in a way, I'm sure Dorian would say I should be grateful, really. To some degree... I am. In some little part of me, for his deception was proof enough that I could still feel, even if it was hate.
Ashes to ashes.. he had more than his allotted time on this earth.. it made him weary and listless... allowing his greed and vanity to suffer the loss of his conscience.
She paused before the mirror, pulling the silver brush through the length of her hair, turning it into a glistening mass of vibrant mahogony strands.
I should feel something more for his loss and the violence of his passing, but there is little that can find its way past the guilt that I feel.
I killed him...
His was not the first death that I have caused, but it was the first time that I have killed one that I...
...cared for.
The brush clattered to the table top, knocking over the single bottle of perfume she indulged in, but she felt little concern for the crinkle of breaking glass when the anguish thrumming through her veins roared in her ears.
"Mrs. Harker?"
In the space of heartbeat her image had been joined in the mirror by another, a face ghosted in the glass. She did not start at the site, for it seemed in some corner of her mind that he had always been there... living in the dark.
His voice, cautious and clear pulled my mind free of the maelstrom. "Yes?"
As she lifted her gaze to his, his aching pain was clearly written in the dark centers of his eyes. For of all the gentlemen, he was just as lonely as she.
"I was walking past... and heard the sound of breaking glass. Is there something... amiss?"
"I was just... thinking."
"I see." He nearly turned away, but another thought seemed to o'ertake his mind. "Should you need someone to talk to... You have only... to find me."
My eyes could not deceive me, not with him. For he could hide anything behind his mask of English passivity, but not when I look in his eyes. They mirrored my pain and gave me solace. "Thank you, Henry."
He gave a pause, as if searching for something else to say, but his eyes flickered back to mine with a shaken look. "Well, good-night to you, ...Mina."
And then he was gone.
The End
