[FoH] #75 - Mirror, Mirror (Jerial)

I will show you the truth, it hisses, a serpent's words slithering into his ears. Its enchantment begins. I will reveal all that you which you wish to know - all that you already know - all that is hidden and all that is exposed. I shall bare it all before you. Behind its glass guardian, the liar lures his prey closer and closer and closer still.

My, my, look at that hair of yours. New, isn't it? Cut it just for him, did you? Tell me, did he even notice it? Compliment it? Tell you it looked beautiful as it brushed against that newly tanned skin of yours? No, I suppose he didn't. And I suppose he never will. Truly, it was right. He twisted his braid between his fingers. No one even batted an eye at him, no one noticed his beauty, if beauty is what it was to be called. But could you ever really be beautiful?

He recoils for a moment, trying to regain his senses, his worth, his sense of worth, Goddess was it all the same? But that blasted voice keeps calling him back for more and more and more. 

Mmm, I see you've gained weight, too. Such a pity. Who cares if it's muscle if it doesn't suit you? You always were such a petite little thing. Now look at you - from skin and bones to meat and toned. So unbefitting of the 'pretty boy', as they say. Shame that they'll have to retire that nickname of yours now that you've let yourself go. Pity. He supposed he did look a little heavier today. Or was that just the clothes? Of course it wasn't, it never was. That was just an excuse. He was gaining weight, muscle or not, and, as he was told, it didn't sit right with the image he was giving. Or, at least, trying to give.

The serpent sneaks ever closer, winding itself right round heart, sinking its venom into the core of his being. The truth is, my friend, no matter how you look, - fat or skinny or oh-so-pretty - no matter what you do, - fight your hardest or flirt your fiercest -no matter who you become - be it sinner or saint or apostate - he will never look at you that way. 

So why, dearest Jerial, do you try so hard to win some fleeting chance at affection that you will never find and keep in a man that has no intention of making you his? Even if you win him for a moment, he will leave you in the end. And you will end up just like your mother - an animated corpse, vibrant and vivacious on the outside, but hollow and lifeless on the inside, awaiting for death in the desert that embraces it so.

Maybe it was right. Maybe he should just give up. After all, mirrors never tell a lie.