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What does she even see when she looks in the mirror? Mason thinks, watching Aurora wander back and forth through her cramped— cozy,— he corrects himself with the thought a near sneer, apartment. Looks like one of those little winged babies humans are so fond of putting in their art.
He laughs, covering it with a quick frown as Aurora turns her head. Her green eyes are slight with curiosity and he feels himself warm against his wishes at the hint of a smile on her lips.
“What.” He growls, grey eyes fixed on her own green which widen in an almost endearing manner. She really does look like something right out of a painting.
“Nothing.” She answers quickly, glancing away and pacing back to the kitchen.
Liar. He thinks, as he tracks her movements from the kitchen back to the living room. Why does she keep looking? He catches her glance a third time and scowls when she turns another soft smile coupled with a bat of her lashes his way.
“Aurora.”
“It’s just... that’s the first time I think I’ve seen you smile since I met you.”
Mason blinks once, then again, remembering himself only when she giggles.
“Yeah, well don’t think it’s because I want to be here. I’m only here because Agent Wolfe ordered me to be.” He snaps, hating the odd twist his stomach gives as Aurora’s smile falls.
“Well.” She stands and moves from the couch, moving away from the living room.
Away from me. The thought sends a pain of guilt through him, though he can’t fathom why.
“It’s nice to have you here all the same.” She pauses, turns back to face him as she tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “Goodnight, Mason.”
As she departs, Mason catches himself mirroring her movement— the realization sending a flare of annoyance followed by a feeling that could almost be described as wistful; quickly snuffed out like a flame. He stands from the couch quickly, crossing to the windows and throwing one open wide as he lights a cigarette.