There, sat in the furthest corner of the furthest room sat a figure more ghost than reality. She was more like a delicate silk that had begun to unravel and rot than a woman. Her skin was sallow and sunk deep into hollow cheeks. The lace clothing she’d once filled to voluptuous effect hung from her like a tent of dust-ridden sheeting. But it was her eyes that hurt the most, unchanged as they were, blue like sapphires, sparkling from a crumbling, limestone cliff face.
Jean returns to Alba: An Eternals Snippet