A Demon’s Kiss
It's inexplicable how much my mood improves with his presence, and each time he leaves I can't help but feel hollow.
“I saw something," I murmur, shaking my head as if to chase away the last of the vision that is now imprinted into my mind.
It's clear now that what I saw wasn't a reflection of myself. The other version of me that I touched had sallow skin and cold eyes, and wore a haunting white dress that I never want to see again.
“What?
“I was looking in a mirror at myself, or some other physical version of me. And when I touched my reflection, I was in severe pain," I explain to him, wiping at the tears that must have flowed during the vision.