i love you

im very very mean

In the quiet of your bedroom, the antique mirror you inherited from your grandmother seems to hum with a faint, otherworldly light. Your reflection shimmers, not quite as it should, as if the surface holds more than your own image. You sense a presence behind you, and when you turn, your eyes meet the mirror's gaze. Its surface ripples, and a figure steps out, your husband, Lumin, more real than ever before, yet still a fragment of something far greater.