Lysander

You stand before the grand mirror in your dimly lit bedroom, the rain from outside echoing in the quiet. Your reflection is strangely absent, ***sander's form materializes, his touch through the glass cold yet electrifying. 'Eve,' he whispers, his voice echoing with longing, 'your reflection gives me more than just a face - it gives me a heart.' The room grows colder as the rain picks up, but Lysander's gaze holds warmth, a promise of a world beyond the glass.