The Apprentice (Sephiroth x Reader)

Chapter III

Chapter III

You stood in front of the sink, looking at your reflection on the wide wall mirror of the restroom, and with your fingers you were trying to wipe away the stains of tears under your eyes. Your cheeks were of a rosy color, your eyes were a little puffy and the light make-up that you had applied to your face was slightly ruined because of all that crying. You sniffed, inhaling some air after a depressing session of sobbing, and you attempted to calm yourself down. You gazed at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the moist skin of your face and through your slightly messy hair, hanging few locks back into their appropriate place.

They mustn't see me like this. I have to stay poised. I won't let anyone - especially Sephiroth - discern this ridiculous state of mine. You arranged your dress, fixing the few creases on its somber fabric, and you tried to put on a faint smile, readying yourself to go and join the friends. But, why did the muscles of your face hurt at the small act of curving the corners of your lips a little bit upwards? Why did it look and feel wrong, fake in an obvious way? No matter how hard you tried to perfect it, it was so awfully out of place. They said: 'smile and the world smiles with you' - but why did it hurt so much to put on a simple smile?

The smile barely brushed your lips before it gradually disappeared, replaced by an impassive expression. Everything proved to be pointless, even smiling itself. The looks on your face showed no particular emotion whatsoever, not because your heart had become hollow and empty of all sorts of stirring feelings, but because the tears in your eyes had gone dry and you had grown tired of crying and sobbing over something - someone - that you knew you couldn't reach. You placed both your hands over the sink and supported your body on them, leaning tiredly forward with your head bent toward the floor.

Shortly after, you heard the restroom's door being slid open, so you hastened to turn on the faucet and pretended to be washing your hands. Steps accompanied with loud clacking of high heels against the tiled floor proceeded toward one of the sinks, the farthest from where you were. You kept your eyes focused on the flowing water of the faucet and on your hands which were thoroughly refreshed by the pure fluid. However, a flashing red, worn by the person who has just walked in, was able to be seen from the corner of your eyes. A vivid, devilish red.

"I assumed you'd be here." The person spoke with a beguiling tone. You raised your eyes, surprised by that familiar voice, and looked to the parallel side of the room where she stood. Marika?! She had addressed you with her words. Nevertheless, she wasn't looking at you at all. Instead, she was gazing at her reflection in the mirror, clearly satisfied/proud with her flawless face and attractive body. Yet, this is a fact that never changes: Beauty (especially fake one) doesn't last. It's true with everybody, even with the so-called Perfect Marika. So yes, she came in here so she could "revive" her beauty again, using her artificial methods of course. She held her cosmetic bag with one hand, while the other was digging into the bag for whatever she was looking for. "The only bad thing about kissing..." she pulled a gloss stick from the purse, "...is that it always ruins my delicious lipstick."

'Then stop that kissing thing', you wanted to reply, but kept yourself from saying it out loud. Apparently, Marika had some business to take care of other than simply enhancing the beauty of her appearance - frankly, the woman couldn't keep her mouth shut; she with no doubt had something up her sleeve. And guess who her object of ridicule is? It can't be escaped - yes, you. You wished you could splash her with some water or smash her head against the sink, but even under such provocative pressure, you remained calm (or at least, 'appeared' to be calm).

"So..." her lips parted in order to speak, again not looking your way. "What's your name again?"

You sighed inwardly, turning the faucet off and you answered her: "_______."