۔
Belle woke with a start, her chest heaving. Her pillow was damp with sweat, though the room was cool with the night breeze. She had dreamt again—only, it didn't feel like a dream this time.
Thomas had been there. His hands had brushed against hers, his whisper had lingered at her ear. He had held her close, murmuring words in a language she didn't understand. And the frightening part was… she could still feel him, as though his touch had followed her into the waking world.
Shaken, Belle sat up and pressed her palms against her face. Am I losing my mind? Or is he really crossing into my dreams now?
The mirror across the room glimmered faintly. Belle's gaze was drawn to it against her will. Shadows stirred within its glass, until Thomas's face emerged once more.
"Belle…" His voice was soft, almost pleading.
Her throat tightened. "Why do you haunt me even in my dreams?"
Thomas's eyes shone with something between sorrow and yearning.
"Because dreams are the only place where I can touch you. Where I can hold you."
Belle froze, her heart pounding. She wanted to deny it, but deep down she knew—every sensation she had felt in that dream was real.
"I can't keep living like this," she whispered. "You're… you're not even alive."
For a moment, Thomas's face flickered with anguish. "Not alive… but not gone either. My soul is bound here, and you—Belle, you are the only light I've seen in centuries."
Belle felt tears prick her eyes. She hated herself for the way her heart trembled at his words. She hated that despite the fear, she wanted to believe him.
He extended a hand through the glass, and for a heartbeat, Belle swore she saw the mist curl into the shape of real fingers.
"Do not fear me, Belle," Thomas whispered. "Fear the truth that binds us both."
The mirror darkened suddenly, leaving her alone. But the warmth of his phantom touch still lingered on her skin.
And Belle finally admitted to herself—
This was no dream anymore. This was real.
And she was already too deep to escape۔
End of Chapter 🖤🖇