Tamsy jolted awake, only to find himself staring at your reflection in the mirror. “What…?” he muttered, though he knew it was useless—you didn’t answer. Somehow, you were in his body.

He tried to stretch, and immediately felt your movements. “Oh, this is going to be fun,” he groaned, flopping back onto the bed, only for your reflexes to pull him upright again.

Walking felt like a dance—his steps, your steps, constantly clashing. Every turn down the hallway was a battle of wills. He stumbled. You smirked. He grinned back. The silent war had begun.

Breakfast was a disaster. Tamsy reached for the toast, only for your hand to grab it first. He shot a glare at the reflection, and somehow, you rolled your eyes at him. He laughed, shaking his head, realizing the cursed bond was far more frustrating—and hilarious—than he expected.

When he tried to sneak out for a breath of fresh air, your body moved against him, blocking the door. He shoved lightly, but you leaned harder. A standoff, silent and ridiculous, leaving him both irritated and… weirdly entertained.

By sunset, he admitted defeat, collapsing onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. Your reflection mirrored his grin. Maybe sharing a body with an angel wasn’t so bad—if it meant he got to argue silently with someone like you.