{ ball / with Elijah }
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Despite Floriano’s best efforts to cover his features under the intricate facade of his black-and-silver mask, Elijah’s keen eyes pierced through the crowd, spotting the boy. Not surprisingly, for a bond as deep as blood rendered disguises futile. A brother always recognizes his brother, even amidst the swirling chaos of a masquerade.
Floriano raised his gaze reluctantly, making brief eye contact with his twin, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy in the air. Elijah, with his effortless charm and striking appearance, had always been the favoured son. At least, according to Floriano’s subjective judgement. In spite of that, Floriano never felt the need to cause any rivalry between them, accepting the unfairness of fate without resentment. But now, as the shadows of past grudges loomed large, a sinister desire clawed at Floriano’s heart - a yearning to sever the wings of his twin.
Floriano averted his disdainful gaze, deciding that out of the two evils, he preferred to look at the dance floor than the poster boy that he, unfortunately, had to call his brother. Yet, the bitterness that simmered beneath his stoic facade found voice in his words.
“Why am I not shocked that you’re parading around with that d^mn smirk?” he said emotionlessly, his voice cutting through the air like a razor-sharp blade. “Mother always said that if you kept smiling like that, your mouth would stay that way. And she was right. You look like an imbecile with that dumb smirk. It’s like your badge of idiocy, that you wear so proudly. But… I’d say that it actually reflects your vacuous personality perfectly.”
They had teased each other as children, as well. They exchanged playful jabs and wrestled with each other, but always in good fun. They were boys, and boys needed a catalyst for their pent-up energy. However, now it wasn’t a source of innocent, childhood amusement, but rather a grim reminder of the festering animosity that poisoned their bond. Their words formed into intangible weapons, now used on the battleground of simmering hatred.
Floriano had no intention of entertaining his brother, no desire to bury the hatchet that cleaved their fractured relationship. “What are you talking to me for?” he asked directly, spitting out the words like bullets from a rifle. They pierced the air with lethal precision. “If you have nothing of substance to offer, spare me this nonsense. I don’t feel like indulging your flumadiddles, Elijah.”
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{ @sunflowerjm }