Chapter Text
Namping looked around the mountain of boxes surrounding him. It seemed never ending at this point, the smell of dust filled up his senses, it was dizzying.
"Are you almost done?" the voice coming from the floor whined. Firstone never knew how to be patient at times.
"Look around you... Do I look finished? You know this would go faster if my 'partner' helped me," Namping said looking at Firstone knowingly.
His friend was on the floor face planted in the dirty carpet. It was disgusting to say the least.
"Did I say open a antique shop?" Firstone mumbled.
"Yes, yes you did actually," Namping said and Firstone replied with a groan. Namping was right, as always, it was Firstone's plan to co-own the store with him. But he would argue that it was Namping's fault for taking him so seriously because now they are stuck on a Friday afternoon surrounded by old dusty boxes.
Their inventory was supposed to arrive weeks ago, but there was a delay in shipping, they are officially two weeks behind schedule.
"Namping come on," Firstone groaned again. Everyone and their mother knew why he was so eager to leave. He wanted to go to the flower shop next door to enquire about some other random flower he had no business asking about. He actually just wanted to talk to the pretty boy who owns the place.
"You can go," Namping said softly. Firstone suddenly sat up in no time, grinning from ear to ear with the stars shining in his eyes. His friend was inlove and who was Namping to stand in the way of, how does he like to call it?
"True love."
"Wait, wait no what about you," he said halfway out the door, but not entirely leaving because he must actually be feeling some sort of guilt for just wanting to leave Namping in the boxes and dust.
"I'll just open this last big box and we can come in early tomorrow morning and finish the rest. I'll be done in no time," he tried to reassure his friend and with that Firstone disappeared through the door of the backroom and sped out of the shop.
Namping stared at the big box infront of him. The thin rectangular box was light enough so it surely wasn't going to be a problem to sort it out which was why Namping chose to finish his quest with this particular box.
He picked up the paper that was attached to the box. Item number 4032 Westrings Mirror. Legend had it that the mirror belonged to Ms Louis Westrings, she handcrafted the mirror throughout her life until it was perfect and when she died she made the choice to have her soul trapped in the mirror to help others find what she never could... Love.
It was supposed to work automatically, the "soul" chooses the person she wants to help. What a joke.
Namping wasn't one who cared about love that much anymore. He was content just being a spectator, he enjoyed the second hand butterflies he got while watching his friends or acquaintances fall in love. The stories they tell excitedly while picking out antique pieces for their homes. It brought him a sense of joy.
Namping had his little heart crushed many times. He tries to deny it, but he had a very soft heart. He was aware that he carried himself like a champ, but he felt knocked down completely after the recent horrid love fail. He shuddered at the reminder, the humiliation, PUBLIC humiliation at that. Finding out your boyfriend of a few months was engaged, to a woman, and a father.
He carefully opened the box and delicately took the mirror out and placed it on the table infront of him. It was surprisingly heavy and extremely cold to the touch even through Namping's work gloves.
The mirror looked pristine, no scratch, no dent, it looked brand new.
Namping ran his fingers over the wood carvings around the border. A mixture of forget-me-nots and peonys perfectly carved with delicate precision. Namping got a good look at his own reflection in the clear unblemished mirror. He looked tired, lips a bit cracked and nose red from the cold he is denying to have.
Does he really look this bad?
Something about the mirror felt comforting, like something was pulling him in for a hug to tell him that everything was going to be okay. A shiver ran down his neck, what an odd thing to be thinking. What odd things to be feeling.
Suddenly an alarm went off, the sound of his phone has never sounded so horrid, the sound cut through the silence, it was harsh and intruding. He looked at his phone and realized it was the alarm he set for his skin care that he did before he went to bed.
It was strange that this alarm was going off considering that it was only five in the afternoon. Namping looked at the time and his blood ran cold, it was nine o'clock at night. Has he been standing here staring at a mirror for four hours straight? That couldn't possibly be right.
In one swift motion he pulled the thick gloves off of his hands and quickly darted towards the door. The lights in the shop was still on, but outside it was already dark. He looked at the clocks on the wall, each one breaking the same news to him. It was nine o'clock at night. He truly stared at his reflection for four hours.
He looked down at his phone again. No missed calls from Firstone which was odd. Usually his best friend goes into a spiral when Namping just disappeared like this, but nothing tonight. He must be with his "True love".
Namping gathered his belongings, turned off the shop lights and locked the front door.
The cold air of the night was a sharp contrast to the humidity of the backroom storage of the shop. He inhaled the clear air, thankful to not be surrounded by all the dust anymore.
He dialed Firstone's number only to reach his voicemail. His phone lit up with a text confirming his suspicion. Today's encounter was a success, his best friend finally got that date with the pretty boy he has been talking about for the past three months.
The walk to his apartment was swift, somehow time flew past him again and the next thing he realized was that he was standing in his shower. The hot steam surrounded him and the heat of the water felt heavenly. Namping was usually a man of many routines, but tonight he had no energy left. He washed his face in the shower, he lazily brushed his teeth and half dried his hair and when his head touched his pillow he was out cold.