-* . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . * . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . * . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . * . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧
✧ the laundry room, césar ✧
-* . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . * . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . * . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . * . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧
Surprisingly enough, César thanked Jakob for not allowing the washing machine to bite him. Jakob only nodded smugly, accepting the thanks with pride. “I don’t like talking much about my brother, but yes, we are twins.” He answered. Jakob only looked more confident at this-Knew it. Even though really, anyone could tell. A flick of his hand and chin warned Jakob not to ask any more questions about his twin brother. The look in his eyes showed he truly was serious, and Jakob obeyed, looking disappointed. Not too disappointed though-as the door was almost open.
At first, there was nothing. César was facing the washing machine, newly pink garments still in hand. Jakob had to admit, for a few gold pieces, the dye had done an excellent job. It wasn’t even splotchy or anything. Though everything was more of an opal-colored pink than a deep crimson-which was even better. Next to be picked up was the muffler-no longer the color of the sky-at least, not during the daytime, at least. Instead, it was more the color of a deep twilight sky, right after the sun had sunken. “It’s lillia.” The muffler dangled in front of his face, and before Jakob could ask him to speak English, he translated-“Purple.” “Hey, purple’s all the rage these days. Color of royalty.” Jakob laughed-it was hard to speak while laughing but he got the job done.
And finally, he got to see César’s face as his blue eyes fastened on the empty vial of fake blood. Though it was hard to focus through the bursts of laughter-he could’ve swore César’s face turned as red as the liquid. He wondered what would happen next-would the garments be thrown in his face? Another whirlwind of insults? As he wondered whilst laughing his butt off, César simply got to his feet and marched out of the room-Jakob hardly noticed, he was too busy quaking the walls with his laughter. Footsteps could be heard-well they could be if Jakob stopped laughing so loudly. Just as he stumbled out the door to try and find César, something hurtled towards him. As his eyes fixed on César and the stick he was holding, Jakob’s last thought was Golf? Before pain shot up and down his left leg. He cringed, grabbing his thigh and dramatically falling on the floor-that hurt. “OWWW!!!” He cried, whilst laying. “What did you do that for?! I think it’s broken…” He murmured, face turning red with pain. Yeah, like that would work again.
orp ✧ @edelgard welcome to my candy store~ and sorry if the face-turning-red thing is too godmoddy! lemme know-though it’s more for expression!
-* . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . * . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . * . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . * . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧