His Identity

48

|Nick's POV|

'Will you be coming to the charity gala?'  The text read.

Atlas has always been the quieter of the twins. Angel and Ess are actually worried about him. Nobody in our family came out shy whatsoever. So, according to them, it's kind of a big deal.

He mostly keeps to himself and doesn't say a word unless absolutely necessary. Even though he's close with Ares and Sage, they're the one who do all the talking in their group.

So, yes, receiving a text from him is level one hundred weird.

'What's with the sudden interest in my presence?' I text back.

His reply doesn't take longer than five minutes. 'No interest. Just curious.'

'I guess I'll satisfy your curiosity then, quiet one.' Fuck, I love teasing these fuckers. 'I'll be there. Missed me?'

'In your dreams, perhaps.' He replies. So much attitude at such an age. Bro needs some sort of reminder that he's only fifteen. But I wasn't like that at that age, I was so much worse. Guess it runs in the family. 'Grandma says you have to bring a date.'

Our grandmother, Maria, a nice lady but a real pain in the ass. She's fun, sometimes strict, most of the time, she'd be spoiling me rotten. I'd use that to my advantage. Yes, I was a spoilt kid.

When mom or dad would refuse to buy me stuff, it was easy for me to get it anyway. Ess and Sean have always been my saviors. They love going against my parents' wishes and thus would give me what they refused to. Those times were fun, I wish I could go back. But unfortunately, that's very much impossible.

'Sure,' I write back. I'm not expecting for him to say anything else but he does.

'Sweet. Just don't bring another Erin.'

Just like that, my mood shifts. That fucker. Of course he's bitter for what happened to Eli but then again, she was my sister before she was his cousin. He has no fucking right to pull that shit at me. But I'm above wasting my time in arguing with an insignificant child. He might be my cousin but I don't owe him any hospitality.

I only send him a couple of middle fingers. Thea would probably have my ass for that later on but who cares at this point? I haven't seen her for three years now. I can't wait to see them all again at the gala. My excitement, however, is died down at the prospect of seeing my parents again.

How would they react? Do they know I'll be coming? Of course they do. Grandma must've told them, maybe she even asked them for permission before inviting me. I wouldn't be surprised. Or maybe they'll skip the party.

There hasn't been one ever since Eli's death. This is the first one they're holding in three years so I expect it will be grand–er than it's ever been.

My grandmother tends to love the extravagance and the luxury. Knowing her, she probably invited half of the world's population. She's catching up, after all. Grandfather doesn't really have a say in what she does. Most of the time he just nods, smiles and agrees with his old lady.

"You're moving too much," Zale mumbles, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

I stay still, letting him to his shit. As the first prick of the needle touches my skin, a familiar sensation courses through my body. It's a tingling, almost electric feeling that intertwines with a soothing warmth. The needle dances across my skin, leaving behind a trail of ink that gradually takes shape. I don't know what he's drawing, but fuck if I care. It's Zale and he's really good at what he does.
He had chosen the rest of my tattoos himself except like two of them.