Work Text:
The mirror was coated in steam, the temperature in the bathroom slowly rising. The woman wiped the mirror to reveal her reflection.
Her delicate face looked back at her with obvious signs of heat, from her rosy cheeks to her reddened lips.
Her wet hair curled up at the ends dripped tiny droplets of water on his shoulder and ran down her body.
She moved a strand of hair behind her ear and wiped her forehead. Pulling the towel off the rack, she rubbed it through his hair and dabbed her body.
She traced her lips, moving down her chin, over her chest scar. She traced it lightly and moved her hand lower till her fingers met a fistful of hair.
She stopped there, hesitating to touch that one part of her body.
The mirror is calm, reflecting her easily, a vision of a ghost, a warrior, a scared little girl, a liar and a murderer, all reasons she hasn’t dared look too closely.
She thinks for her perfect brother, the model prince that no one could hold a candle to.
The long strands a soft violet hue, curling perfectly to frame his sculpture-like body, a porcelain skin color without a scratch.
A vision she’d come to both hate and admire.
She wondered if that stony exterior would crumble if he ever learned of the truth, her truth.
Would he hate her for her lies, or admire her strength?
One can only wonder.