She was dreaming. She was enjoying her deep dreamfilled sleep. Does she really have to wake up?

Taya listens for the tell-tale tapping of her roomate's boot against the dusty hardwood floor. Every morning, without fail, Adenne follows the same routine: Wake up woefully early, get ready for classes, eye Taya's half of the room, fling open the drapes, eye Taya further, tap foot, focus intently on remaking bed when Taya notices. Repeat as necessary.

Hazel eyes peer out from beneath a cave of pillows and just miss two violet pools that focus instantly on smoothing out a bedsheet. Ah. Routine.

Taya rouses herself and shivers as her bare feet cross cold floor. She shuffles to her bedside trunk, careful not to stub her toes and rummages through each drawer. Everything, once folded with the best of intentions, crumples together in a wrinkled lump from her bleary eyed hunt. Not that it matters much, her clothes are too simple and too few to suffer from a stray wrinkle.

After shrugging on a tunic and pants, her gaze wanders across the room again. Adenne gazes into her mirror, fussing with perfection. Taya always wonders why she needs it. Her heart shaped face is smooth peach from corner to corner, her eyelashes long and feminine, her hair the kind of shoulder hugging wave that keeps its shape when tossed around in a windstorm. It seems to Taya that just as many heads would turn if she didn't paint her lips or charm her glasses invisible.

Adenne purses her lips at the mirror and moves her necklace some indeterminable distance to the right. She catches Taya watching her from a corner of the glass. "Are you sure you don't need to use the mirror?"

"I'm sure. I don't, um, need it to brush my hair."

"You could put on a little make up, maybe. More people might notice you if you paid more attention to that kinda thing. There's plenty you can do without charms..."

"No," Taya interrupts. She hesitates, blushes, and lowers her voice to a mumble. "N- no thanks. I get noticed too much anyway."

Adenne rolls her eyes into the mirror and shoulders her bag. "Suit yourself. And don't be late for your class."

Taya hears a soft thud as the door falls shut. Her eyes fix on a sliver of her reflection. Her fingers seek a thin braid of hair tucked behind her right ear and twist it in and out of curls. She is plain, isn't she? Her face is a little too long to be feminine and her curves are a little too subtle to be attractive.

Taya offers her reflection as bold a smile as she can muster, the sort of smile she gives the world every morning and loses by noon. It's the only charm she knows.

"Today is going to be different," she tells the mirror. "Today is going to be a good day." She nods firmly, declaratively. But confidence sounds strange and unreassuring in her voice, and she turns away from the mirror.

~