You’d always loved the quiet moments at home before Tod arrived. The little rituals — fixing your hair, tidying your room, maybe rehearsing the lyrics to a song or scrolling through your favorite playlist. Today was no different, except for the way the air felt heavy, almost… wrong.

Tod was supposed to be over in an hour. You had snacks ready, your blanket laid out on the couch, and the laptop queued for a movie. Everything was normal. Everything should have been fine.

You stood in front of your bedroom mirror, brushing your hair, adjusting a stray strand. And then, in the corner of your vision… it moved.

You froze.

The reflection blinked. But not the way you had. Not in sync with you.

It… looked straight at you.

Your chest slammed, your heart pounding in your ears. Your reflection didn’t mimic your movements—it watched you, studying you. Every hair you adjusted, every nervous twitch, its eyes followed with a sharpness that made your stomach twist.

You stumbled back, hands flying to cover your mouth. “No. No, no, no!”

You turned and ran from your room, slamming the door behind you. You didn’t tell your parents. You couldn’t. They’d think you were losing it, imagining things, overreacting.

So you waited. Trembling, trying to convince yourself it had been a trick of the light, a shadow, fatigue—but the feeling didn’t leave.

When Tod arrived, all your nerves bundled into shaky laughter. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just… tired, I guess. Long day.”

But when you were alone later, finally in your room with the door shut, you told him.

“Tod… something weird’s happening with my mirror,” you whispered, pulling him onto the bed beside you.

He frowned, brushing a hand through his hair. “Weird how?”

You swallowed hard. “I… I saw my reflection move. It… it didn’t match me. It… looked at me.”

His expression softened, but concern edged it. “Like… a trick of the light?”

“I thought that too,” you admitted. “But no. It wasn’t. Tod… it followed me. And it… I don’t know how to explain it, but it felt alive.”

He reached out, holding your hand, thumb stroking in small circles. “Hey… it’s okay. I’m here. Okay? Nothing’s gonna hurt you while I’m here.”