The day after the mirror fractured was heavy. The house didn't feel the same. The walls breathed differently. The silence between each tick of the clock had a pulse, like it was waiting for something. Or someone.
Ethan hadn't left his room. Not because he didn't want to, but because something was changing inside him. His dreams now spilled into the real world. Every blink, every shadow, felt like it carried memories from the mirror.
He sat by the window, his fingertips tracing circles on the foggy glass, staring at the sky. It was cloudy—thick, silver, and restless. He hadn't seen Noel since the night the mirror cracked, and that scared him more than anything else. What if he was gone for good?
Just then, the air in the room shifted. It wasn't a sound, not a breeze—but something invisible stepped into the space. Ethan felt it deep in his spine. The hairs on his neck rose. He turned to the mirror cautiously.
It was no longer cracked.
But instead of showing his reflection, it showed a field—vast and glowing with purple grass and gold mist. And right there, standing like a scar across beauty, was Noel.
Ethan stumbled toward the mirror. "Noel!"
The boy in the mirror turned his head, eyes dim but alive. He looked tired, bruised, but smiling. "I didn't leave," he whispered. "You just couldn't see me."
Ethan pressed his palms to the glass. "Where are you?"
"Somewhere in between," Noel replied. "But I'm getting closer."
"What do you mean?"
"The crack let something in… but it also opened something inside you."
Ethan felt warmth crawl up his chest. "You mean I can come to you?"
"No. Not yet," Noel answered, his expression dimming. "But I can come to you."
The mirror shimmered. It pulsed like a heartbeat. A faint mist swirled from it, curling into the room like breath. Then, Noel stepped forward—and for a moment, just a brief second—his foot touched the floor of Ethan's world.
His hand reached out.
Ethan didn't think. He grabbed it.
It was cold. Not like death, but like water before it turns warm. Like rain. Like something real but not quite whole.
"You're here," Ethan said, his voice cracking.
"Only for now," Noel said. "But the more time we spend… the more I become real."
Noel leaned in, their foreheads almost touching. "Can I stay the night?"
Ethan didn't answer. He simply nodded, tears burning in his eyes.
That night, they lay on the bed, not quite touching—but never truly apart. They talked in whispers about things they didn't understand yet. About fate, about fear, about falling in love with someone who might never be able to fully live in your world.
And just before sleep pulled them under, Noel said, "Do you believe that mirrors lie?"
Ethan turned to him. "Only when they're broken."
Noel smiled. "Then I guess we're healing."
The clock ticked on, but time stood still.
And the mirror, for the first time, showed two boys lying side by side, caught between dreams and reality, longing and becoming