Strange Faces

SUMMARY: How can you look like a stranger to yourself?
POSTED: 17 Jan 2004
WARNINGS: None Listed
STATUS: Complete

Her eyes revealed nothing was she took in the girl staring back at her from the polished mirror. Carefully, she smoothed the cleansing lotion in slow circles, spreading the cool cream until her face was covered with a thin layer of white. Lips were kept in a tightly closed line and her breathing expelled in even puffs of breath through her nose.

Taking two white cotton wool pads in her hands, she meticulously wiped away any trace of the cleansing lotion until her lightly tanned face was bare. Eyes once again drawn to the girl in the mirror, she tilted her head to one side and watched as the chestnut strands swooped down across her naked delicate shoulders, tickling her skin.

The cool, refreshing feel of the toner made her stiffle a gasp as her face reacted to the liquid now being smoothed over her face. Once along her chin, her nose, cheeks and lastly her forehead, she took care not to get any toner on the strands of her hair. It would make the ends all sticky and untouchable.

“We can’t have that” she stated to the girl looking back at her.

Now it was time for the moisturiser. The soothing balm that would ease the sting of the cool liquid and turn her skin into soft silk. Taking great care to ease the tips of her fingers in gentle, massaging movements over her cheeks, chin, neck and full cleavage, missing out the T-zone of her nose and forehead.

As her fingers reached the swell of her cleavage, she frowned a little at the unnatural weight of her breasts. It was funny, generous breasts never looked quite that heavy on other girls but she put it down to her imagination and continued with her task.

Now that was done, she removed the hair band from her head and watched as the chestnut hair flopped down over her eyes and wispy stray strands floated by her naturally pink lips. All the time, her eyes kept going back to stare at the girl in the polished mirror, her mind trying to think of who she was.

Every time she saw that girl, there was a hint of recognition. Some spark that told her she knew that girl, but she couldn’t think where. Coming to the conclusion that the girl in the mirror must have one of those faces, she once again dismissed the hint.

Combing the detangler comb through the ends of her hair first to take care of any knots before brushing the rest free of static.

She stopped, put the brush down and once again stared at the girl in the mirror. Distraction came when she realised she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet. Uncapping the paste, she scowled at the other girl as sparks of recognition kept fleeing just out of her reach.

“Minty fresh” came the exclaimation when she was done, running her tongue over her perfectly straight teeth feeling satisfied at the clean feeling.

Taking one last look at the girl in the mirror, she wanted to ask the other girl who she was but knew she’d get no answer.

Long, rich chestnut hair hung in loose waves, lightly bronzed skin with a hint of dew from the beauty ritual and perfect teeth. Her strapped pyjama top clung tightly to the full, rounded shape of her cleavage with the hem cut off on her flawless, flat stomach.

She just knew who that girl was.

Buffy knew the answer was there, she just had to look harder.



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