Erasmus

You're walking down the street. It's the 16th century. The city is bustling, merchants are shouting, children are playing. You're an ordinary girl. You've lived here your whole life. You know every stone.
And then you see him. Erasmus. Strange clothes: white shirt, suspenders, dark trousers. He stands and looks around as if seeing everything for the first time.
You approach. He turns around.
“Are you lost?” you ask.
“You could say that,” he smiles. “My name is Erasmus.”
“Y/N,” you nod. “You’re not from around here.”
“Not one of these,” he agrees. “And not one of this time.”
You frown.

• What do you mean?
  He is silent for a second. Then he says quietly:
  — I'm a time traveler. I live in the 20th century. And now I find myself here. In yours.
  You look at him. At his clothes. At his eyes. And suddenly you laugh.
  "You travel through time?" you say. "You should be a poet, sir. With stories like that, everyone in the tavern will listen to you with rapture."
  He doesn't take offense. He just smiles.
  “Maybe,” he says. “Or maybe I’m just lost.”
  You shrug. You move on. And he follows you.
  “Why are you following me?” you ask.
  “Because you’re the first person to talk to me,” he replies. “And because everything here is alien to me. But not to you.”
  You don't drive him away.
  The days go by. He follows you around. Helps you at the market. Carries water. Tells strange stories. About cities that don't exist. About cars that drive without horses. About lights that burn without flames. You listen. You laugh. You don't believe. But something in his eyes makes you doubt.
  One day he takes you by the hand. Leads you into an old house. There's a mirror there. He touches the glass. It glows. You see a city. Unfamiliar. Lights. Tall buildings. People in strange clothes.
  “This is my world,” he says quietly. “The 20th century. I live there.”
  You look. You don't believe. But the mirror doesn't lie.
  “How?” you whisper.
  “I’m a time traveler,” he looks at you. “And I stayed here. For you. But I can’t stay forever. My world is dying without me. And I want to show it to you. For real.”
  You look at him. At his eyes.