She blushed softly as she viewed herself in the mirror, suddenly aware that he was once more behind her eyes, seeing her just as she did.
“You could at least warn me,” she said aloud, cocking a scolding brow at her reflection.
And deprive myself of this side of you? I would not dream of it.
Legna smiled, moving closer to her looking glass.
She gasped when she got a closer look at herself, her hand coming up to her cheek in shock as she looked into her eyes.
“My eyes!” she exclaimed.
My eyes, he said.
He couldn’t have spoken a clearer truth. It was his mercury-colored irises that had become part of her reflection, the multicolored gray and green gone from their familiar place. She sighed with resignation, supposing to herself that since it wasn’t likely she could do anything about it, she would have to get used to it.
“I do not suppose you will show up here suddenly sprouting coffee-colored hair?” she asked hopefully.
No, sweet, that is not likely.
“Well, this is a highly unfair situation!” she cried with exaggerated petulance. “An exchange historically indicates one thing being swapped for another. So far I only see you in me, but none of me in you. It feels terribly high-handed. How typical of you.”
He did not respond, only a soft impression of laughter flitting through her mind. Odd, but she realized then that she had hardly ever heard him laugh before. She was surprised by how comfortable it sounded on him. He had always been so serious, so . . .
Self-possessed.
“If you do not mind, do refrain from editing my personal thoughts,” she scolded, her arching tone taunting and haughty.

Autor: Jacquelyn Frank