Enzo
He grins again in a breath, even if the twisting feeling lingers. The bubbles of her laughter buoy him up alongside her, always keeping pace with her. “When are you gonna learn you need really, really good and a touch of maturity? If they don’t meet the job requirements they don’t interview, duh!” He rolls his eyes so hard the torchlights blur together for a moment until he instinctively finds the summer-blue of her eyes. His own personal piece of stolen sky. He slides a hand off her back to pinch her hip, narrowing his own eyes at her. “I’d say you should know better as a businesswoman, but clearly you’re out of the game and already rusty if you’re losing talent to your upstart usurper.“ Does he know who the new owner is? Obviously no, but she’s no Flora, so. “Honestly! I leave you alone for a year and suddenly you’re performing charity left and right! The exact thing I told you not to do last time, dummy.” She’s not keen on listening to people but he’s her twin damn it. His entire job is knowing better - or at least knowing her, which is why he cocks a wry brow at her blatant lie about Jack. She wants harsh truth? Well, he’s giving it in advance of her verbal authorization; forgiveness, not permission, all that good stuff.
His hand rises to cup the back of her head as she rests against his chest, idly curling and stroking through the soft, styled waves she’d perfected for the night. As perfect as so many people think she really is - which is why Enzo is intent on messing it up, because he likes the reality a hell of a lot better than the empty mirage. “That’s what I mean by actually taking care of you. Having people who know you well enough to know that you’re both. Anything less and half of your friend-ly lackeys will beg you to be on the front lines, and half will try to shut you away in a tower.” Both of which will just end up with her right back here in his arms, half-shredded gold vellum that he doesn’t have nearly enough time to fully or properly repair.
But how can he not try when the shadow of his shoulder paints her gold and purple, her eyes turned into oceanic shades that drown him when she looks up at him? Even though he’s dead Enzo feels like he can reverse the ocean’s tides when his twin smiles at him like there’s nobody else in the world. And why should there be?
“Why wait? I’ll reality check you at whatever dad’s current frequency is - like therapy appointments that you definitely don’t need.” His grin is so wide and cheeky that his dimples paint dark shadows on his cheeks reminiscent of a laughing skull in the dying light. The hand that pinched her hip snakes out to bop one fingertip against the very end of her nose. “But yes, I promise. Now quit with the foreplay, set the scene for me. I need to be judge and jury.” He doesn’t have enough time on the clock to be executioner unfortunately.
His hand rises to cup the back of her head as she rests against his chest, idly curling and stroking through the soft, styled waves she’d perfected for the night. As perfect as so many people think she really is - which is why Enzo is intent on messing it up, because he likes the reality a hell of a lot better than the empty mirage. “That’s what I mean by actually taking care of you. Having people who know you well enough to know that you’re both. Anything less and half of your friend-ly lackeys will beg you to be on the front lines, and half will try to shut you away in a tower.” Both of which will just end up with her right back here in his arms, half-shredded gold vellum that he doesn’t have nearly enough time to fully or properly repair.
But how can he not try when the shadow of his shoulder paints her gold and purple, her eyes turned into oceanic shades that drown him when she looks up at him? Even though he’s dead Enzo feels like he can reverse the ocean’s tides when his twin smiles at him like there’s nobody else in the world. And why should there be?
“Why wait? I’ll reality check you at whatever dad’s current frequency is - like therapy appointments that you definitely don’t need.” His grin is so wide and cheeky that his dimples paint dark shadows on his cheeks reminiscent of a laughing skull in the dying light. The hand that pinched her hip snakes out to bop one fingertip against the very end of her nose. “But yes, I promise. Now quit with the foreplay, set the scene for me. I need to be judge and jury.” He doesn’t have enough time on the clock to be executioner unfortunately.
whether death or distance comes between
there comes a time when everybody leaves
there comes a time when everybody leaves
