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Ever since her "big reveal," at the CIA, Raven had noticed Moira staring at her.
She would constantly catch her eye, then turn her head, as though contemplating Raven. Assessing her. Raven hated it.
She kind of hated her. With her beauty and charm and working her way to the top as a woman in a man's world and- effortlessly taking Charles' attention from her.
Finally, at the mansion when she caught her watching yet again, Raven confronted her.
"What are you staring at?!" Raven asked, preparing for a fight.
Moira didn't even pretend ignorance. Of course not.
"You. It's just… you're actually blue," Moira explained, as though Raven hadn't had that problem her entire life.
"Yeah, and?" Why did she think she was wearing the blonde façade?
"You're so pretty. I just don't understand why here, when you're safe from any danger, you wouldn't want everyone to see how beautiful you really are. Why not show off?"
The words took Raven aback. "Beautiful" was not something she was called before. Not as herself. Not… blue.
Moira's eyes filled with compassion as they both saw Charles across the way.
"Men can be blind to what's right in front of them. And they have a habit of misunderstanding beauty as a manipulation or weakness, instead of another strength we have at our disposal. You are gorgeous like this," Moira reassured, pulling her in front of a mirror. Raven took a breath, then allowed her natural form out. "But you are absolutely stunning like this as well. Mystique," she affirmed with a soft smile.
Raven looked at herself in the mirror, searching for the "hideousness" that people seemed to fear. Or reject.
And for the first time since she was a little girl breaking into a strange house, she couldn't find it