Joyce Monroe couldn't bear to look. She tried to push him out so she could compose herself, but a certain someone was being particularly devilish about it. As steam filled the bathroom and fogged the mirror, he insisted on taking her hand and using it to wipe a clear patch on the glass…
"The mirror isn't even clean. How are you going to compose yourself?" Silas Thorne pressed his body against hers from behind.
Pinning her tightly…
Joyce Monroe watched in the mirror as her own gaze gradually grew hazy and unfocused.
In the end,
the mirror was covered in a messy web of fingerprints.
She was completely drained, too exhausted to even lodge a proper complaint. As she lay down in bed and wrapped the covers tightly around herself, she couldn't help but grumble, "Are you even human?"
"Not human? Then what am I?" Silas Thorne, on the other hand, seemed to have boundless energy.
"A beast!"
