Sight Unseen

Angie

Reason has moons, but moons not hers
Lie mirrored on her seas

- Ralph Hodgson

Vincent left the bed and padded over to the long shallow niche. A full-length oval mirror stood there, its brass frame limned in gold from the amber light of the stained glass window.

On the wall next to the niche hung Kristopher Gentian’s portrait. Catherine had put it there deliberately of course.

He no longer avoided mirrors, but seldom looked in one. What was there to see? He knew what he was. He couldn’t shave, his hair was easily brushed and clothes were clothes, as long as they were clean. There had never been a mirror in his chamber. Only the Mirror Pool had ever reflected him – and that memory was painful.

Vincent regarded himself dispassionately. He had never seen himself full length before – and certainly not naked. He looked not unlike other men. He was lean and well-muscled, had all the parts of any man, if on a slightly larger than average scale. His body was hairy, certainly, where it was not furred, and little of his skin showed. What really set him apart were his face, hands and feet. Of those, it was his "aspect" which kept him hidden. However, seen in his entirety, he looked merely different, not alien - and definitely not a beast. Catherine was correct.

He glanced at their portrait. There was very little of himself to be seen, except his face and hair – even his neck and hands were hidden – the former by his hair and the latter with gloves. His face, though, had a severe, determined expression. His eyes were hard and held a warning. He was holding onto Catherine protectively, as if challenging anyone to separate them.

He gazed in the mirror again. His face was certainly fuller now, more relaxed – a true reflection of his inner peace of mind, he decided.

Catherine watched Vincent from the bed. He had been pointedly ignoring the mirror until now. She had sensed his curiosity, but had also known he would approach this new thing in his own way, when he chose to.

She was relieved that he seemed perfectly sanguine, so let her eyes roam over his graceful form. His legs slightly apart, he stood in that silent stillness she knew well. It meant he was thinking deeply. She could not see his reflection but their bond told her he was fascinated by this new look at himself.

She saw him look at the painting, and took her cue. She extracted herself from the soft bed and stole across the chamber to stand in front of him. The chill of the chamber gave her full-body goose bumps, but the reflection of herself naked in front of him warmed her.

Vincent put his arms around her and dropped his head. She watched him inhale her scent for the first time. His eyes were closed as he nuzzled her neck, then tightened his embrace to bring her closer to him. The feel of his warm hirsute body against her made her skin tingle and her heart race.

She glanced at the painting and then at her reflection. She looked less smug now, less stubborn. Her face had softened and she looked as content as she felt.

Catherine leaned her head against him, to mimic the portrait. Vincent looked at her and obligingly positioned himself accordingly – but their reflection lacked poise. He shifted his right arm lower across her breasts, then his left across her pelvic triangle to her right hip. She positioned her hands in relation to his and they regarded themselves critically.

Much better, she thought. His shoulders and chest seemed to almost enclose her, his long legs framed her own, his larger feet almost hid hers. Their reflection was all she had dreamed. They seemed to melt together, just as they had in the painting – but now there were no clothes in the way. Catherine sighed.

Vincent was completely captivated by this new image. The sight of Catherine’s small, pale body against his larger, darker one, made him want to surround her, merge their bodies even more. He felt his manhood awaken. Catherine snuggled closer as she felt it too. They looked at their reflected eyes and saw identical passion burning there.

He swept her into his arms, then. His kiss thanked her for the gift of his true reflection as he carried her back to the warmth of their bed.

END