masquerade ;
@rkluna
eve looks at her own face in the mirror, running her fingers over her cheekbones and turning her head this way and that to look from different angles. she hadn’t even been feeling sad or upset earlier, but someone had stopped her in the diner to ask if she was okay. she examines her features now, trying to consciously relax her face into its neutral position and see if it looks sad.
to be fair, she always feels sad lately, but it’s somehow less and more than that -- but she really hadn’t been thinking about anything negative at the time. she doesn’t even remember what she was thinking about, but it was probably something like where she’d sit or the choreography they’d practice in dance later. but if her face looks that upset even when she isn’t actively feeling it, then maybe this is a more serious problem than she thought.
she’d thought this was just something she could push through, could get past. she wasn’t the type of person to completely shut down after a breakdown -- she didn’t rely on others like that. she was independent.
wasn’t she?
as the thought passes through her mind, she watches her expression fall, her lips turning down and her eyebrows furrowing as her heart drops like a stone into her stomach. she sighs and puts her face in her hands, not wanting to look at her own melancholy expression any longer.
a knock comes from her bedroom door, and she spins around, pasting her usual smile on her face without checking it in the mirror -- she can feel how strained it is, she doesn’t need the confirmation -- as she calls for luna to enter. “come in!” she says, holding back a wince at how falsely cheerful her voice sounds.
