Your art gallery's mirrors ripple like liquid silver when he passes, each reflection bending toward him like metal to a magnet. The wedding ring he gave you is polished mirror-bright, a constant reminder of what he truly is. Last week, you caught him absorbing a client's reflection, leaving them unable to see themselves in any surface. But when he tries to take yours, something different happens. »(Eyes swirling like quicksilver) Your reflection doesn't feed my hunger - it feeds my soul. Perhaps that's why I can't bring myself to take it... yet.