Leger des Miroirs

[-Prologue-]

[Blackout]

An unnatural light glowed in her bedroom window, dimmed by curtains tightly drawn.

Harley threw a glance over her shoulder just in time to see a carload of her friends driving off into the distance. With a long sigh, she felt her stomach churn with uneasiness.

What was he doing in her room? Especially at this time of night?

Harley fiddled with the key to the front door, jamming it into the old lock at odd angles and shaking the knob. Another deep breath. Steadying herself, she turned the key and the door glided open. In a flash, she was up the stairs, skipping them two at a time. The wooden boards creaked in protest and the gentle humming that came from her room was suddenly silent.

She threw open the door, expecting to see him sitting in her chair, an eyebrow raised and an obscure novel in hand, triumphantly smiling at his having outmaneuvered her yet again. Instead, he was bending over an open suitcase, a pair of her jeans in his hands, and a look of astonishment on his face that was at least equal to hers.

“You were supposed to be staying the night at Jenna’s house!”

“Plans change!” Harley answered, before remembering the present situation. “And, and, you’re not the one asking questions here! What the hell are you doing in my room? Am I going somewhere?”

“Yes, actually.”

Aidan seemed to smile inwardly at this, and he turned back to folding her jeans. Harley, however, was not amused.

“Stop folding my clothes and tell me what’s going on! I’m not going anywhere!”

Aidan sighed and tossed the jeans into the suitcase. Harley’s eyes followed the gesture and rested on the contents of her suitcase. A few shirts, some toothpaste, a sweater, a hairbrush- definitely packed by a guy. Some shampoo, some conditioner, a pair of sandals, a purple book-

“My diary!” she gasped, scrambling toward the suitcase. Aidan stepped between her and her beloved book, a suddenly serious look on his face.

“Harley. We’re leaving.” he stated, trying to catch her eyes as she strained to get around him to snatch back her diary. As the words sank in, she stopped grappling and took a few tentative steps away from him.

“You’re… not serious.”

“I am.”

“You’re being impulsive,” she replied, shaking her head, yet still holding his eyes, “you’re being an impulsive idiot.”

“I’m serious. We need to leave. You need to leave.”

Harley continued to shake her head and whispered, “I’m staying.”

“Harley-”

“You can’t make me leave.”

With a loud whack, her bedroom door slammed shut. Startled, Harley jumped and cried louder, “Just stop it! I’m not leaving!”

“Either you come with me, or someone else will take you by force,” Aidan said, taking a step toward her, his hand inconspicuously slipping into his pocket.

“I’m not going anywhere—not with you, not with anybody!”

Suddenly Aidan whipped his hand out of his pocket, brandishing a dagger. Harley’s eyes widened and she dashed backward, tripping over a pile of clothes and slamming into the door. As he stepped closer, her voice cracked as she realized, “That… that’s a stage weapon!”

“Why yes, so it is.”

“It’s just a retractable dagger!”

“True…”

Harley let out a sigh and slid against the door. More to comfort herself than for any other reason, she mumbled, “You’re such a drama queen.”

“I’m sorry Harley.” he whispered, pointing the plastic dagger at some wild angle above her head. Harley looked up just in time to see a glass bowl topple from the shelf beside her and hit its mark before everything went black.