Adult Content Warning
This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
-
Tags
Summary
Cursed be his masculine form. He hates it. He despises it. Not in a dysmorphic nor dysphoric sense, rather, the way in which it tears the blanket of subterfuge from his mind. Were he able to envision himself in swathes of white, with larger hips and a thinner waist, there would be a modicum more love in what he gave to himself.
He uncaps the lipstick, and pushes it against the glass. Smearing crimson against his pale figure reflecting, scribbling out the bulkier aspects of himself. Thinning the hips, trimming the fat, so to speak. If he stays deathly still, he can see her again. He can pretend.
Philippe wraps his arms around himself, haggard breaths, sweat beading down his face and crawling into his lids.
He’s her, isn’t he? In some shape or form.
He’s her, right?
The Ripper is a beast that takes many forms. Philippe does not have a favorite one.