Beyond Bloodline - Unbreakable Bonds

thirty three

Nigel was teetering on the brink of insanity. This thing he and Saxon were doing—revolving around each other with one hopelessly avoiding and him helpless to give chase— was sure to drive him mad sooner than later. So that was the first thing he did as soon as he got back from his outing with Hayley. . . and get plus one. Right after taking a shower. And whipping up a storm in the kitchen. And then snacking on a couple chocolate bars.

His twin's shower was running so he made himself comfortable on the bed, picking up the leaflet he found lying askance on the side table. He was perusing it, trying to make sense of whatever it was when Saxon finally reappeared, an instant frown marring his face as he turned to burrow in his closet for something to wear.

"I'd half expected you to say something," he remarked lightly, uncrossing his legs so he could recline against the headboard.

"Alright, Nigel," Saxon said, tone dull as he pulled on a dull knit sweater and just as faded shorts. "What do you want?"

Nigel grimaced. Hard. "Now, you're doing this?" he said, nose crinkling. "You hate calling me that." It was always Nic this or Nic that, sometimes Nicolas if he'd had it up to here with him. Hardly ever Nigel.

"You never liked me calling you Nic," he stated, leaning against his shut wardrobe with his arms crossed. "You just like to pick a problem with me either way?"

Nigel blinked before pursing his lips, own mood souring. "Fine," he said. "Call whatever you like."

"What do you want, Nic?" he finally asked, coming to sit at his desk and picking a glow pen he soon started fiddling with.

"Are we. . ." he trailed, his twin's arresting gaze coming to meet his. "Are we fighting?"

"Don't know," Saxon muttered, tossing the pen aside in frustration and leaning back in the swivel chair to stare at his twin. "Are we?"

". . . No."

"Okay," Saxon muttered. "What did you want again?"

"Nothing really," Nigel said, clicking his tongue and starting to fold a paper plane with the flier still in his hand. "Was just bored."

"So you came to me for what?" Saxon bit back instantly, tone bitter. "Amusement?"

Nigel paused on the right wing he was folding out already. "I thought we weren't fighting," he said, meeting his gaze and then getting slightly taken aback by the blazing intensity in his dark eyes.

Saxon didn't respond, expression glum as he turned away, pulling open his desk drawer in search of something else to fiddle with.

"I'm sorry," he said in the end, a finished paper plane resting in his palm. "I just missed my brother." He didn't earn a reply but he didn't mind it much and just started picking apart the paper plane. He frowned when it was snatched out of his hand.

Saxon set it aside before he could pick it apart only to start folding it anew. "It's whatever," he said with a shrug. The words he'd been on the receiving end of weren't completely unwarranted on his part anyway.

Nigel pursed his lips, really regretting it but knowing from his closed off expression he really didn't want to dwell on anything from that night any longer, left the whole topic alone. He could only make the conscious effort to try to do better. Their parents' bias against him was their own problem. It had nothing to do with he or Saxon. He wanted to be better than that, than what they hoped their relationship would sour into.

"Are you hungry?" he suddenly asked out of the blue.

Saxon glanced at his hands that had snatched the paper plane off his desk, unfolding it but making no move to wrinkle it up any further. "Why?" he asked.