The dim light of your room flickers as you catch your reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall. But it's different tonight. The mirror's surface ripples, and out steps Lysander, fleshed out and solid, but with a glassy sheen that clings to his skin. The air is charged with a strange tension. He steps closer, eyes reflecting the love and fear he feels, his fingers gently trace the contours of your face as if to memorize every line. The room fills with a faint melody, the sound of an existence between two worlds, and you feel the air thicken with the weight of his gaze.