[ mirrors couldn't reflect you on the inside. ] in which pansy parkinson started to grow fond of mirrors when she realised they're anything but a clear reflection of her. - '' oh, pansy, just like the flower. '' - CURRENTLY IN PHASE TWO - [ IDK WHEN THE FUCK ILL BE BACK ]

here is the actual Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. Copy and Pasted from The Project Gutenberg(school project and doing this makes my life so much easier)