Every year he would come back to this place, this same old house. He still owned it after his parents death but he left it after his lovers death. His lover, his life, changed on that faithful night. His life became eternal and his lover left this place and time. But every year on Christmas eve time brought them together to announce another year of living apart. In 125 years he never missed a Christmas and neither had his lover.
Neither had aged at all, they both still looked 20 odd years old, still strong in body and mind. But underneath the looks their souls had aged, trapped inside a never changing cage. Time had passed by, technology changed, people became more and more suspicious and distrusting, of each other and the government.
During the day he had felt the magic slowly trickle into the house and every time he passed one of the mirrors he could see his lover from the corner of his eye but he had already disappeared as soon as he turned his head. By now he had gotten used to it, though the frustration about it never ceased. He sat in the chair counting the hours until nine 'o clock, just like back then, only now, alone.
At five to nine he stands up and climbs up the stairs, walking towards the room of magic, the room where it all happened. As he opens the door he can feel the magic sparkle off his skin and the air is full of the smell of candles and incense. He walks to the middle of the room, to the bed and the mirror, he sits on the bed looking at the mirror. In the mirror his love is sitting in what looks like the same room and on the same bed. The same house, only in another time and space, the same but not. Only one minute to go, as the mirror slowly starts to rumple, almost like water, from the middle to the edges of the surface. He stands up and walks towards it, lifting his hand to touch it as another hand comes from it. Softly touching each other and then linking together. He pulls his lover through the mirror and holds him close.
“My love,” a hoarse whisper “Finally you're back in my arms. I missed you. A year seems longer every time it passes.” He puts his hand under his lovers chin and turns his head up to look at him. His eyes are a pale blue surrounded by honey coloured lashes set in a fair porcelain like face framed by golden locks that barely reach his shoulders. “And you're still as beautiful as ever,” he dips his head down to kiss his lovers cherry coloured lips. The angelic moan that leaves the lithe body makes him ache for more and he pulls his lover closer as to have better access to his mouth. He slowly slips his hands under the white blouse and pulls it over his lovers head before he picks him up and lays him on the bed. Sitting next to him he opens his jeans and covers his lover in small feather-like kisses as he softly undresses his lover...
The next morning the bed is empty, the magic gone and the mirror shows no-one but himself. He knows the magic will be gone for another year, six hours a year is all they have, but he lives for it. For him there is no-one like his lover, and there will never be someone like him again. He slowly dresses himself and walks down the stairs. In the livingroom, there is a huge Christmas tree and underneath it an envelope, just like every year. He opens it with care and takes out a picture and a small note. The picture is of him and his lover holding each other close, a picture of last night, and the note has 3 simple words on them.