It is the expression more than the physical changes, that gets Maya. She forgets that she looked like that. She never realizes that she looked like that, despite the strength and the humor that she can see in the figure's expression, too. Photographs are one thing; seeing herself filtered through someone else's gaze is something else entirely.

(She never thinks of herself as that beautiful, either, but Piotr apparently does.

The traitorous stray thought causes a dull flush to creep up the back of her neck, though it is swiftly stamped out by the second traitorous stray thought that she doesn't look like that any more.)

"It's beautiful, Piotr." Her voice is quiet, but firm in its surety. Her eyes flick up.