It's in the eyes, they say. She'd seen the movie many times of the last unicorn turned human. The pale-white girl with the pure white hair traveled to the sea-side castle where her unicorn comrades had been chased into the sea. The man responsible knew not she was a mythical beast, until he looked in her eyes and saw images of her forest home, instead of his own reflection.
Years later the girl tried to learn to read eyes, to know their depth, to know their meaning. But every time the eyes said "love" with a soft palated head inclination and a glisten or two she was wrong.
Over and over again wrong.
"We actors can put on those things." The cavalier on screen cooed as he leaned in to kiss the bewildered girl. She chose him in the end. He left her, having made her believe love long enough to obtain what he needed to leave.
She watched the movie play on in silence, having believed in the love affair. His words spun about, and she remembered all the times she'd read eyes wrong. Each pair misinterpreted, each pair actor's eyes.
"We actors can put on those things."
Don't trust an actor.
-She penned, her eyes desert dry. Then she scratched it.
Don't trust actor's eyes.