[ in some ways, she's happy to hear him referring to her not by her name, the one she owned years back, back when she was an innocent, a child, a little girl still in Charles' care; in others, it reminds her of that sharp split of identities she feels when she really thinks about it. It's fairly fitting for her life, she thinks: she's always been made of dualities, right from the beginning. One face, natural but cringeworthy to most; the other, a mask, a facade, a disguise that's considerably more acceptable. She's never quite known which was Raven and which was Mystique, but neither does she want to let go of either. Not really.

[ she doesn't think of Erik as a monster, not really. She can see where he's coming from, she can see why he makes the decisions that he does. They're two peas in a pod, and it's why they're drawn together and it's why they're forced apart, she thinks. But she's not a mind-reader, and she can only speculate; only Erik knows for sure.

[ there's still a girlish flip in her chest at the way her name sounds on his lips, though she does her best to ignore it. They're not in public, not really - she feels free to have abandoned the disguise for now, a smile curving her lips in response to the way his quirk. ]

Right back at you. I guess not even prison life could chew you up and spit you out. You're a lot more resilient than that.

[ a compliment. There's something in her eyes that's almost reverential, but not quite - respect, that much is for certain. She's always respected him. ]