Work Text:
“That was better than I thought,” she says into the mirror and does not watch Carmen, sitting across the room, where she is pulling her boots back on. She trains her gaze on her own mouth, reflected back at her in the glass. Her lipstick’s been wiped off in a hurry. There are matte smears of mulberry, Sheena’s shade exactly, smudged all over the covers. She does not say, You’re better than I thought.
Carmen looks up at her finally, something dark and amused in her eyes, and Sheena knows that she’s misstepped, stumbled away from the party line. “Oh, really,” she murmurs, half sigh and half satisfied, “Am I the best you’ve ever had?” Her voice is wide and whole and flippant in a way the old Carmen never sounded.
She does not watch Carmen in the mirror. Even more, she does not say, It’s good you came back. Sheena focuses back onto the mirror. In two practiced swipes of her hand, her lips are painted wine-dark again. The tube is warm in her hand.
“As if,” she says, and it feels easy again, like it always was. “Don’t expect a repeat performance. Once was enough.”
And yet she cannot stop herself from glancing at Carmen, reflected darkly in the mirror, her edges catching in the light. Mulberry is still smudged across her collarbone.