Soul-searching and Candle-burning // Lyons Twins

( T A L L U L A H F L O R E N C E L Y O N S )

The darkness is an odd place to be. Here, I cannot see where we join. Still, our heartbeats collide in a terrible flutter of broken wings, still her blood leaks into my own body with a fiery rage. Even without holding my breath, I can hear her breathing, a steady lullaby that I often choose over sleep. With the lights switched off - (I prefer them on, and the open window to be closed) the edges of my being are unclear.

In this way, we overlap. A little of me is her - parts of her drift into me

[/i]. To have been born into a family without a curse would break me (in half, actually) for I am not whole without the parts of me that belong to us.

Tonight, the darkness is too much. This idea - of being one in some places and two in others - threatens me until I open my eyes wide and lean as far as I can manage away from my sister. The switch catches in my hand, and my light blooms[/color] into our bedroom. When we were young and the others got their own rooms, Peregrine wanted hers, too. I could feel her breath catching in her throat when she looked upon them, and envy was born in her eyes. There is comfort in our condition, for me. Trapped[/color] together, well and truly, our lines blurring and our edges shifting and the idea of two people entirely theoretical. Guilt and thankful safety broke free in my heart at our diagnosis, yet they are two things that don't seem to have spilled into her veins. "Peregrine? Are you sleeping?" I say, a little too loudly for a quarter past midnight. I already know the answer.

( O T H E R ) 2A2A42
( S P E A K I N G ) 372E3A
( T E X T ) 603A45
( T H I N K I N G ) 7E433E
( O T H E R S P E A K I N G / P E R E G R I N E ) 883735

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