Mirrors (A Larry Stylinson Fanfic) NEWLY REVISED

Past Lives

NEW REVISED

Chapter Two: Past Lives-Borns

Harry's POV:

Is this what insanity felt like? Because there was no way I could be looking at a reflection other than my own. I had seen the shadow reappear this morning, but I blamed it on another sleepless night. I spent hours thinking about every possible thing my mind could imagine; from the latest assignment Mr. Jamieson had left me, to fears about paying this months rent, and even as far as feeling guilty for not calling my mom this week.

This time looking in the mirror was different though. I turned and looked behind me to see if someone had broken in, but no one was there; it was just me and this reflection. As I peered closer, the shadow wasn't just a dark blur, but a man. He had a pair of the brightest and kindest blue eyes I had ever seen. His shaggy brown hair fell in a soft fringe across his forehead, a little longer than most people would wear, but then again so was my hair. He looked familiar, though I had no idea where I could have seen him before. There was no forgetting a pair of eyes like that, but for the life of me I could not place a name to the face, or a reason as to why I was seeing him in my mirror.

I walked up so I could see him more clearly, leaving only inches between our two faces. The man looked just as confused as I did. He raised his hand and gave me a small wave, then tapped on the glass. Nothing happened; he was still there looking back at me. This had to be a dream; a very vivid one at that. There was no way that I was seeing a face on the other side of glass.

"Hello?" The man called out, a little louder than necessary. I was taken aback when I heard him, not expecting to be able to hear his voice. It was higher pitched but filled with a soothing rasp that contrasted the tone.

"Hello?" I called back hesitantly. The surprise on his face was evident, his blue eyes looking at me curiously.

"This has to be some kind of joke, right?!" I asked, not sure why I was still here talking to a mirror. Maybe it was two way glass, and this was the person living next door, though I don't remember seeing anyone living there. I reached up and lifted the mirror off the wall to see nothing but the red brick. No one was there. When I placed the mirror back on the wall, those blue eyes were still staring at me.

"What is going on?" He asked, running his fingers through his already tousled hair, obviously just as freaked out as I was. He looked at me as if searching for an answer. I had none. I had only ever seen situations like this in movies or read about them in romance novels. Things like this didn't happen in real life.

"This isn't real. I'm just sleeping still, and my alarm is going to go off any minute for work." I said, trying to convince myself more than the man in the mirror. I knew perfectly well that this wasn't a dream, but there was no other rational explanation as to why I was seeing, and talking, to another person's reflection. Maybe I was sick and hallucinating. Something, anything had to be a better reasoning for what was happening right now. Each rationale I thought of left me more and more confused, and honestly slightly afraid.

I paced nervously back and forth, running my hands through my long hair. Wake up, Harry, wake up. I said to myself, honestly considering slapping myself across the face. I picked at my bottom lip, trying to accept what was going on. There was no use in denying the fact that there was a very real and obvious man standing in my mirror, it was the simple questions of why and how that left my mind reeling. I stopped pacing long enough to notice the time shown on the clock on the wall.

Shit, I was going to be late for work. I quickly looked back up at the reflection.

"I-I have to go." I said, realizing how idiotic I felt and sounded. I didn't owe him an explanation, though my leaving in such a hurry certainly didn't give the best impression, making me seem even more insane than the situation already implied.