After a talk about a week and a half ago, Jono was trying this new thing where he didn't hide his face in the safety and comfort of his own home. Well, Hannibal's home. But at this point, really, the only thing that made it not also his home was paperwork.
Some days, it worked out well enough.
Some days, he woke up and, like today, it was early enough in the day that he could see the reflection of his flames dancing back at him from the full-length mirror across the bedroom. Christ, he hated that mirror with a bloody passion. He hated all mirrors, really. That much hadn't changed a hell of a lot over the years.
That wasn't going to stop him from slipping out of bed today, to go and look at the wreck of his face, trying to nerve himself up to... something. Maybe going outside today. Maybe just staying in and hiding for another day.
Considering the way he turned away from his reflection, maybe from himself. It usually was, wasn't it?
[OOC: For that guy what owns the place!]
- Hannibal's House (That Jono Pretty Much Also Lives In), Wednesday Morning