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Summary
Reflection split, he doesn’t recognize the man staring back.
On one side: the faint bruising of teeth marks litter the slope of his neck. Who they are from could be argued. Stubble on his jaw is a few days' worth, and the puffy dark blotches under his eyes have disappeared. Sleep comes easily as of recent. An ongoing case he was a reluctant consultant to should not have afforded health improvements. He should, rightly so, be at his worst.
Fingers clutch the washcloth, pressed heavily to the glass. Wavy streaks mark the ghastly apparition of a man that no longer exists. Deep in his mind's eye, Scott can see him: Haggard. Weeks' worth of unkept beard. Could use a few meals and more than a few days of rest from the torment of an unquiet mind. A disgraced FBI Agent. Obsessive, broken, but sure of his convictions.
“What happened to you?”
Rhetorical.
Scott knows what happened to both sides.
Love.
Loss.
Love.
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