The Looking Glass

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?" Tristan asked, his semi-long brown hair ceasing to flap against the wind. She lifted her hand to calm the locks, but he took her hand in his, redirecting her fingers to glide across his cheek. Her blue eyes gazed at him before answering, "Ugliness." She whispered. "How can I get you to see what I see?" He breathes, leaning in closer before he could regret anything. "And what would that be?" Ava asked, biting her lip. Tristan loved the way she gnawed on her lip whenever she was nervous or curious, he loved everything about this girl. He pulled her impossibly closer to him so he was sure she could hear his words clearly. "Perfection."