𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑-𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 | 𝙖𝙩𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙡

xi. pulling the trigger

𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐏 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐄 𝐋 𝐄 𝐕 𝐄 𝐍

𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗒:
𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄

𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫

"𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇! 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 that!"

"I'm trying to—"

"OUCH."

Ellie huffed when Maria smacked her hand away, holding her head once more.

She frowned, "That hurts."

"Just let me ice it, it'll feel better."

"Feel better my ass. It hurts to touch more than it does to just leave alone." Maria turned away stubbornly, shielding her head away from her sister.

Ellie sighed, staring at her and then the bag of ice in her left hand which she sat back on the counter. But her eyes slowly drifted to the record player over on the side of the room.

Then it hit her.

She promptly stood up, walking over to the device and searching under it. Her finger dragged along the thin cases until she found the one she was looking for, setting the vinyl up on the turn table.

"You're not playing that song." Her voice grumbled knowingly from the counter.

"Hmm? What song?" Ellie hummed innocently, biting back her smile as the music filled the room.

She couldn't hold it back, however, when she noticed Maria now holding the icepack gingerly to her head with a small hiss.

Ellie knew that her sister was one to be stubborn, and she liked to do things on her own. If you told her to do it, she'd do the exact opposite. With the topic swayed over to the music, Maria was a little more compliant to seek the relief of an icepack on her head the way she wanted it.

"I know what you're doing." Maria chuckled lightheartedly, leaning an elbow against the counter.

The copper-headed female swayed slightly to the music, "I don't know what you're talking about."

The same slow, jazzy melody blended with the humming of a woman, the angelique humming. Her copper locks cascaded down her sides like a flowy curtain, swaying with herself.

"Une part de bonheur... Don't je connais la cause..." The accented voice carried over the beautiful singer's to the smaller ears on the side of her.

In her arms, held on either of her hips were two little girls, no older than two or three. One of short hair that matched her mother laid on her shoulder with her eyes closed and a happy, sleepy smile on her lips; the other a dark shade of brown staring owlishly at the singing woman.

"C'est toi pour moi, moi pour toi dans la vie. Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie." The two sisters listened, one more asleep than the other, but a scene like this was familiar in their lives at that moment. The song, the rocking, it worked wonders.

"Et dès que je t'aperçois." Her fingers delicately dragged a stay piece of hair behind the sleepy sister's ear, "Alors je sens dans moi, mon cœur qui bat..."

Her eyes shifted to her twin when she became vocal, cooing for attention too. She chuckled slightly as she continued singing and traced her jaw, prompting a babyish giggle to fall from the little girl's mouth, "La la, la la, la la..."