how have you been

Illusion's mind simmered with calculation as her mother's words washed over her. She kept her mask on, kept her eyes dewy and injected a shakiness to her overall delicate body. But below that facade of emotion and concern and hurt, her thoughts danced with the skill of a master manipulator, weaving a web of deception as she clung to her mother. She smelled the same, she felt the same. Her mother.

“Momma,” The girl purred, her voice honeyed with false sincerity, her silver eyes gleaming with a cold intensity as she stared out over her mother’s shoulder. “I understand why you left now, but it still hurts,” She continued, words dripping with carefully crafted emotion. That of pain and insecurity. “I felt abandoned, like I wasn't important enough for you to stay.” This was a calculated attempt to evoke sympathy from her mother. Illusion knew the power of her words, how they could twist and bend the truth to suit her own desires. She focused on her face now, before her mother could see, painting it with the sweet innocence of a girl who loves a person who has hurt them. “But,” She added, her voice came softly as she met her mother's gaze, “I want to believe you.” It was a lie, of course – a design to keep her mother under her control. Didn’t she mean that much to her? Even if her mother saw through the lie, wouldn’t she oblige this girl who deserved the world and then some? “I want to believe that you'll never leave us again, that you'll always be there when we need you.” When I need you.

In reality, Illusion cared little for her mother's presence or absence. Her only concern was the attention she could glean from their interactions, the power she could wield over her mother's emotions. And if she could not get it from her, or her blood and flesh, she would seek it out – wherever she could get it. She would play the role of the dutiful daughter, showering her mother with false affection and hollow promises, as long as her eyes were on Illusion alone.
illu