( the cracks have begun to reform, but how? Ben had spent his attention on talking to the other man, as they prompted each other to reveal themselves, bit by bit. Ben draws fingers over the fine cracks, too smooth to register against the pads of his fingertips. what changed? )

But it isn't quite a mirror...at least, not right now.

It's acting like a window. ( Ben glances around the edges of it, because it's not reflecting anything. nothing about them acts like a mirror, so why did they presume it to be? by expectations laid out by themselves?

it means Ben has to stop and look again. he blinks his eyes shut, very briefly, and looks over the framing one more time...looks across to Robbie, again. )

It's not the mirror that's reflecting anything...

It's us. ( they were reflecting, the both of them, in the way that one does to peer inside at themselves. looking at themselves, and conveying the images they see. flawed images though, aren't they? under the fractures of bias. ) We're the mirrors.