In Jongin's room, right next to his bed, stood a standing mirror. It was nothing special, really, and yet it was his most prized possession. He knew that any mirror would have done the job, so he hadn't bothered spending a lot of money on it.

He also had a mirror in his bathroom. It was much smaller and fixed above his sink. There, Jongin had met him for the first time.

It happened dozens of times before, hundreds of times, really. Hundreds of times Jongin looked into the mirror, sometimes sleepy, other times wide awake, sometimes roughed up, other times perfectly groomed. And then, one morning, someone had looked back at him. Someone with clear, shiny eyes that were definitely not his and a natural smile resting on lips much thinner than his own. Back then, Jongin had fled the room.

Today, Jongin had a mirror in his room.

As soon as he returned home, he'd place his shoes and bag aside to check the mirror. See if he was there.

His name was Chen. Jongin knew because he'd written that against the glass one day. From the other side. He'd even written it with mirrored letters for Jongin to read. The letters had turned out all wobbly, back then. Jongin still remembered the way they had written each other's names on the glass, tracing the other's letters, acting all silly.

Today, Jongin placed a palm on the glass and it didn't take long for Jongdae to appear. He simply walked into the scene, as if Jongin was the one in the mirror and not him.

Chen was a little shorter than Jongin, but he made up for it with his warm, beautiful smile.

At least that's what it usually looked like. That day, Chen seemed a little... tired.

It saddened Jongin to see him like this, and as he did so often, he wished they could talk to each other. He tilted his head in a questioning manner, but Chen only shook his head. Then he tilted his head as well, his expression so exaggerated that Jongin couldn't help but crack a smile. Chen seemed satisfied at that, and his lips moved. He was saying something. Jongin was sad that he couldn't hear a word. What would his voice sound like? It had to sound nice. It had to.

To mask the gloomy feeling, he held his hand up to his ear, putting on a playful expression. Now Chen was smiling again, and all was well. They spent a lot of time like this, kneeling in front of the mirror, being silly without hearing each other, touching each other without physically touching each other. Sometimes, Chen was so far away that Jongin's heart ached. But then again, seeing him behind the glass was better than not seeing him at all.

That night, Jongin dreamed of reaching through the mirror.

Jongin had a job, and it was alright.

Jongin had friends, and they were nice.

He also had a passion for dancing, and it kept him motivated.

His life really wasn't bad at all, so he felt spoiled by fate to have stumbled upon the handsome boy in the mirror.

He wasn't a hallucination, Jongin was sure of that, and yet he kept Chen a secret. He wasn't usually selfish, but when it came to Chen, sharing his attention was not an option.

That day, too, Chen looked tired.

That day, he didn't even try to mask it.

He was waiting for him, was sitting on the other end of the mirror when Jongin opened the door. Needless to say, Jongin felt the worry like a drop of ice water in his stomach. Without preamble, he dropped to his knees in front of the glass.

' What happened? ' he mouthed, even though Chen had never been able to read his lips. Chen didn't say anything back, didn't force a smile and just looked at him. There was something about his expression, something that felt oh so familiar to Jongin. Like longing mixed with sadness.

Jongin didn't know how to comfort him, and pressed his palm on the glass, right over the chest of the other.

' It hurts, right? ' he mouthed again, and again, Chen didn't understand. Or maybe he did, because he placed his palm against Jongin's. It was smaller, so Jongin couldn't see his fingers peeking out over his.

The glass was cold.

Jongin pressed his forehead into the glass, as well, and the action was mirrored.

Jongin saw the other from the corner of his vision, his downcast lashes and the tiny moles sprinkled along the side of his face. His own face was terribly warm now, and he wondered whether Chen would feel it through the glass.

What did he have to do to make the warmth seep through?

Jongin awoke with a strange feeling the next day. It was difficult to describe, like the shadow of a bad dream dampening his mood.

Come to think of it, Jongin couldn't remember what he'd dreamed that night.

He still spent his day normally, lived his life normally. He left the house on time, checked his letterbox and found a whole bunch of letters addressed to his new neighbour, went to work and bought a snack in a new bakery he hadn't been to yet. He worked, sifting through documents and coordinating projects. On his lunch break, he chatted with his loud and energetic friends.

Everything was utterly normal and pleasant, and yet Jongin couldn't shake the insipid feeling that was following him around. He felt like he had to see Chen to make it go away, but the other didn't appear all day. Not in the bathroom mirror, not in the mirrored windows at work, not in the rear windows of cars. It made him wary.

Jongin tried to return early that day, but his colleagues wouldn't have it. By the time he finally took the stairs to his apartment, it was dark outside.

Jongin didn't bother changing his clothes or even switching on the light in the entrance area. He went straight for his room, flicking on the light, and Chen was there. He was standing there as if he was an actual mirror image, perfectly still and unmoving, gaze lowered to the ground. It was eery. Jongin still approached the mirror, because even when he was a little scared, Chen wouldn't hurt him. And he couldn't leave him alone, either.

When Jongin stood right before him, Chen looked up. There was a weak smile tugging at his lips, an odd mix of hesitation and determination shining in his eyes. Jongin tilted his head like he usually did, indicating a question.

How are you?

Are you alright?

Is something wrong?

Any of those questions, all the questions.

Any question Chen was willing to answer, Jongin would gladly ask.

Chen parted his lips, reconsidered, and closed them again. Instead, he started gesturing. A circle, traced with his palms. Jongin knew where this was going. They had played this before.

"A circle?" he tried. Chen shook his head, and maybe he could read his lips, after all.

"Round?"

Another shake of his head. Another grand gesture.

"Everything?"

Chen nodded, tapping the side of the mirror, silently asking him to write it down.

He did, and while it wasn't visible on the clean glass, Chen gave him a thumbs up in confirmation. Jongin gestured right back at the glass, asking him to simply write it down. They had done this before, as well, breathing against the glass to write in the perspiration. But Chen refused. Instead, he gestured at himself, then at Jongin.

"You? Me? We?"

Jongin decided to write down 'we'. Chen approved. And vaguely pointed from his eyes into the room. This one was simple.

"Seeing," Jongin guessed, and Chen didn't ask him to write it down, simply had faith in how quickly Jongin had reacted.

"Everything we see..." Jongin quietly repeated, watching Chen made a sleeping gesture, hands folded under his cheek, then gesturing above his head.

Jongin furrowed his brows.

"Sleep... moon?"

Chen shook his head and patiently repeated the gesture. While we sleep, something is above our heads, Jongin thought.

Then he got it.

"A dream!"

He wrote down the word, and Chen's eyes followed him. He gave him another thumbs up, though he didn't look as enthusiastic as usual.

"All we see," Jongin began, imitating the gestures Chen had used, "all that we see... is a dream?"

Chen made a vague gesture. He almost had it right.

The gesture of the dream returned, a circle above Chen's head. Jongin imitated him, dimly hoping the meaning would come to him. Chen jumped in, forming another circle. It was smaller. Jongin didn't understand.

Chen was patient though, he always was. He lowered his hands, holding them in front of Jongin, showing a circle. Jongin mirrored him. Chen made his smaller, held it right in front of Jongin's. A small circle. A small dream.

"A dream inside a dream?" Jongin asked, and Chen made a vague gesture again. One more time.

Jongin lowered his hands and sought Chen's gaze for answers.

"All that we see," he began slowly, "is a dream... within a dream."

He saw something flash up in Chen's eyes, and then he smiled . It was a strange smile, small and unreadable. Then he stepped aside and behind him, Jongin saw himself in the mirror.

Except that it wasn't him. Or was it? He looked just like him, but his skin was ashen, with a scar running down the side of his face and dull eyes. Disturbed, Jongin reached out to put his palm against the mirror, and his mirror image did the same.

The glass was warm.

The other's hand was warm.

And then Jongin was pulled forwards, into the glass, and the world mirrored itself.

Jongin wasn't looking at himself anymore. He was looking at his room, but it took him a while to even understand that much. Everything looked dirty and forgotten, and the window was barred, leaving barely any light in. All the light came from behind Jongin, from the mirror.

He whirled around and looked into the mirror, at himself, with the scar and the dull eyes. He touched the glass but nothing happened.

Beneath him, the ground rumbled, and Jongin felt trapped. Trapped in this dark and dirty world. Someone touched his arm the exact same moment something flew against the window from outside, and Jongin bolted. Someone was going after him, but he didn't stop. The floor was whispering, the peeling tapestry stained with blood, and he had to get out.

He had to find a way back. This place was horrifying-

The layout was similar to his apartment, but inverted. It was easy to find the door, but the moment he opened it, something slipped in, black and slick, and then the door was slammed closed by Jongin's pursuer.

He turned around to see Chen, eye to eye, with no layer of glass separating them. He looked exactly like he had in the mirror, from the curl of his lips to the shine in his eyes, though his clothes looked a little dusty, a little worn out.

In this dirty, scary place, Chen had smiled at him. And he smiled at him now, too. He looked ethereal. Jongin still flinched away from his touch, but Chen wasn't deterred and pulled him into a firm hug, encasing Jongin, squeezing him hard, burying his nose in Jongin's neck. He was warm. Real. He didn't apologize, didn't thank him, didn't whisper words of love. Chen didn't say a single word, and yet Jongin already knew that he would never touch him through the glass again. That he would never return.

Jongin awoke, feeling slightly more rested than usual. He brushed his teeth, got ready for work, checking his appearance in the big mirror standing in his room. With mild annoyance, he flicked at his bangs to try and cover up his scar a little better. Then he left right on time, almost stumbling on his way out of the elevator. He might be a little too eager today. Jongin stood before the letter boxes and for a moment, he couldn't remember which one was his. He shook his head. It really was too early for him.

When he found it, he also found a few letters inside that weren't addressed at him-

"Aah, they mixed it up again! Sorry and thank you, as always," a voice called out and Jongin turned to hand the letters to his neighbour. When their eyes met, Jongin hesitated.

"This must be the first time we meet in person," the neighbour said, offering his hand.

"Kim Jongdae, nice to meet you."

Jongin blinked, and something felt off. Like a déja-vú he couldn't place.

He really was seeing this person for the first time, so why did he feel so familiar?

Awkwardly, Jongin took his hand.

It was warm.