The Lions Den

Chapter Twenty-Seven: When The Lioness' Mane is Stained With Blood

Kashera

Looking into the mirror, I took a deep breath as I clinched and unclenched my hands repeatedly on the counter. Despite the reinforced tile of the bathroom I could still hear the loud clatter of people echoing clearly from the outside. I couldn't take my eyes off of the woman in the mirror who was trying desperately to pull everything together in the last moments of her vanquishing solitude.

She was tired from a months worth of pushing herself to the brink in order to sustain herself and the people she loved. She was tired from having been morphed quickly but throughly from a woman who was naive, gentle, and quick to submit to her tears and frustrations into the calculated, unwavering, and emotionless lithe lioness that was reflected in the mirror. It was a change so extensive and overwhelming that although it had made her better, it contributed to her gripping fatigue.

She was ready for all of this to be over, but looking at her I knew that I could only detect all of these things because the woman was me. To anyone else looking on I appeared immaculately put together: graced with poise, refined by a delicate yet deadly strength. I was a lion: beautiful to the touch, until you did touch and I became murderous with no remorse.

It was in my eyes that had been highlighted today by the simple blends of brown shadow and mascara on my already long lashes. It rested in my passive face that was immaculately emphasized by the foundation and powders that kisses it ever so smoothly. It brought itself to center in the pout of my deep stained lips that showed no traces of a smile.

Relinquishing my hold on the counter I lightly fluffed out the short length curls that rested just off the top of the deep navy blue suit I wore. My hands trailed over its lapels, and down to the large knot tied belt that brought the jacket together atop my nude blouse that laid virtually hidden underneath. I tightened the belt slightly before letting my hands linger to the sides and over the tops of the long pants that swept the top of the floor almost threatening to cover the nude Louboutin heel from view.

I was perfect. I had to be perfect from today until the last word of my closing argument days from now. My racing heart was worried that I wouldn't be perfect enough, but when my eyes met themselves in the mirror one final time, my spirit and head echoed loudly to me that I would be.

I was meant to be here. I'd never lost, and I wouldn't lose this time especially with everything on the line. Especially with my heart on the line. In that grounding I tapped my phone awake to check the time. I took one last look over myself before exiting the confined restroom, and walked into the lobby.

The room was fairly empty beside those who worked here: some police, a scattering of clerks, and the hidden security here for myself. Brooklyn waited with my things in tow as she stood quietly on her phone as I walked over to her. She looked up at me once she heard the inching clack of my heels on the marble. Sending a smile, she met me with a knowing look in her eyes.