Re: The Mirror/The Illusion
The woman may have been of average height, but when a person was draped over a chair and bent half-backward over its arm, she seemed very tall indeed. Haven continued to look at the outfit, pretty and feminine, and perhaps felt just a passing flash of jealousy at how well the woman carried it off. It was wiped easily away by a crimson smile and words that could be considered a compliment.
"You think I'm special?" Their mouth curved more, teeth even and white and just a moment of glint as lips parted to let a chuckle pass. "That's awfully nice of you to say." Mismatched eyes tracked up as the spark drifted downward, and lingered to watch the tiny circle of char mark the floor. And then they were a firework of sudden motion, not jerky or rushed, but going from something that had been a tableau of draped body to a figure that was able to twist and turn and right itself. When the motion ceased, Haven had found a new sprawl in their chair, one foot to the floor with wide-spared knee, and the other tucked up with now-bare foot pressed into the chair's cushion.
Eyes bright with question and curiosity, they leaned forward and up to where the woman bent down, as a sunflower waiting for Apollo's morning kiss. "Would you do that? Make me something terrible and strange? You want to do it?" Guileless eyes blinked in innocence that was only possibly real, mismatched one moment and the next a middling shade between the woman's tight-fit corset and her eyes. A particularly unusual interpretation of the concept of dressing to match.
"What sort of delight?" Greed glinted in eyes and on lips, but that low alto of voice was breathy with the question.