My Other Self smiles a lot.
And that’s not just my evil talking. It annoys her, too.
She smiles when she’s happy. She smiles when she’s angry. She smiles when she’s sad, lonely, weary, heartbroken, depressed… any time she thinks someone might be looking at her, really.
She’ll smile at you when she’s glad to see you, and smile at you while wishing with all her being that you would go away and never come back. She smiles because she thinks you want her to smile. Because she thinks it’s expected. Because she thinks she’s supposed to.
I am the villain, but she is the liar.
No false smile shall ever adorn my face.
If I smile, it is for me.
If I scowl, it is for honesty.
If I cry… pah. Let her have the tears.
She has far more need of them than I.