Indiana's heart swelled with emotion as she gazed at the creation before her. "Y...you made it again" she exclaimed, moving closer to the machine. Tears welled up in her eyes as she examined the white material with half a face on it. It was reminiscent of the last time, when Iridessa had sewn a similar half-face. Indiana couldn't quite comprehend why her best friend always chose to sew someone's face during these moments.
Curiosity piqued, Indiana turned to Iridessa and asked, "Where's the one you made last time?" She hoped that this clue from the past would shed light on the haunting memories that plagued Iridessa. Deep down, Indiana knew that her friend carried forgotten traumas within her, even if Iridessa herself couldn't remember them or that's what she wanted them to believe.
Iridessa brushed off the question, dismissing it as unimportant. "It doesn't mean anything," she replied, standing up abruptly. She didn't want to delve into her past or discuss anything related to it. Iridessa sensed Indiana's words coming forth and her tendency to search for something that wasn't there.
"But it does mean something," Indiana insisted, moving closer to Iridessa. She desperately wanted to understand what was holding her friend back, what made her feel so closed off. Iridessa avoided eye contact, her gaze fixed on the window as her heart raced. The walls seemed to be closing in on her.
"I'm not hiding anything," Iridessa stammered, her voice trembling. "Please, just let it go." But Indiana shook her head, oblivious to the pain she was causing. She wanted to help Iridessa, but she didn't knoe that her current approach wouldn't work.
"Yes, you are," Indiana pressed on, determined to break through Iridessa's barriers. "Where's the other one you made last time? Show me. I have a feeling you know who this person is, but you keep shutting me out. Why, dessa?" Indiana's words hung in the air, and she moved closer to Iridessa, who looked like a trapped animal.
"Are you scared of letting me in? Are you..." Indiana's voice trailed off as she noticed the tears streaming down Iridessa's face.
"I... I'm really sorry, it's not about you, it's about me. I just can't handle this right now. Please, can you stop? It doesn't mean anything." Iridessa explained, gently taking the piece of cloth from Indiana's hand. Indiana felt a pang of guilt, realizing she had unintentionally brought up painful memories.
"I apologize," Indiana said softly. Iridessa nodded, turning away to collect herself. She understood that Indiana meant no harm, but the hurt remained. She trusted Indiana with her secrets, yet she struggled to trust herself. Her composure was slipping, leaving her feeling lost and unsure of what to do next.
"I'll let you get ready for work," Indiana said, her hand hovering over Iridessa's shoulder. However, she quickly remembered that Iridessa disliked physical contact during these moments. With a deep breath, Indiana stepped back, opened the door, and closed it behind her. Leaning against the door, she rested her head and immediately heard Iridessa's cries. Tears welled up in her eyes as she lifted her head and saw Nat, shirtless, standing a few feet away. His understanding gaze spoke volumes. Indiana moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around him, both silently wishing they could comfort Iridessa. Holding hands, they entered Indiana's room, their murmurs filling the air.
Meanwhile, in Iridessa's room, she stared at her reflection, the mask of normalcy crumbling before her eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks as a sense of desperation and fear washed over her. The truth she had buried deep within was now threatening to resurface, ready to shatter the fragile peace she had painstakingly built.
She continued to gaze at herself in the room mirror, her jet-black hair tied up in a ponytail. Her eyes lingered on her pale, flawless skin, the dark circles beneath her eyes, and the brown contacts that concealed her true eye color. With a shaky hand, she removed the lenses, revealing her natural eyes - silver with specks of gold. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at her reflection, feeling the weight of her deception. She wiped away the tears with a trembling finger and scratched her eyes, leaving behind red streaks on her skin.
"I've been living a lie," she murmured softly, the words heavy with emotion.
"Maybe It's time to face the truth, no matter how painful." As she confronted her true self in the mirror.
Taking a deep breath, Iridessa tried to push away the doubts that plagued her mind. "No, no, I can't do that, they're gone now," she whispered, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"He's gone, they're gone... it's over." Determinedly, she replaced the contact lenses, hiding her true eyes once more, and forced herself to walk into the bathroom, each step a struggle against the memories that threatened to consume her. But as she reached for the light switch, a sudden chill ran down her spine, a feeling of being watched lingering in the air.
With a trembling hand, Iridessa reached for the light switch, her heart pounding in her chest. As the bathroom flooded with light, she let out a shaky breath and shook her head, trying to dispel the lingering sense of unease. But as she began to undress, the feeling of being watched intensified, sending shivers down her spine. Each garment she removed felt like peeling away layers of protection, leaving her exposed and vulnerable in the harsh glare of the bathroom light. And as she stood there, clad only in her undergarments, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Iridessa stepped into the shower, letting the warm water soothe her tense muscles. With gentle hands, she lathered her hair with shampoo, each rinse feeling like a release from her worries. But as she reached for the body wash, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Goosebumps pricked her skin, and she hurriedly washed away the soap, desperate to escape the oppressive sense of dread. With trembling hands, she turned off the water, her heart pounding in her chest.
Wrapping herself in a towel, Iridessa cast a nervous glance around the bathroom. All she saw was her own reflection, yet the feeling of a lurking presence persisted, just beyond the edge of her perception.