[ Kahlil gives him a strange look, some color draining from his face. There's a tall mirror on the other side of the room that he glances toward. He gently removes Rita from his shoulders and deposits her on Jack's bed before walking toward it with a creeping dread in his belly.
He sees himself reflected back, standing in the boxer-briefs that Jack had conjured for them, and as he gets closer he can see what Jack describes - a little gold in the deep, almost black of his brown irises, bright ring. ]
No. [ His tone is flat. ] They're not supposed to be like that.
[ It could be his other gift, he thinks at first - with wary hope. He tries to dismiss the gold the same way he would if he had willingly changed his face, but when he opens his eyes the effect remains. ]
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He sees himself reflected back, standing in the boxer-briefs that Jack had conjured for them, and as he gets closer he can see what Jack describes - a little gold in the deep, almost black of his brown irises, bright ring. ]
No. [ His tone is flat. ] They're not supposed to be like that.
[ It could be his other gift, he thinks at first - with wary hope. He tries to dismiss the gold the same way he would if he had willingly changed his face, but when he opens his eyes the effect remains. ]