Losing everything I thought I once had

Chapter 1

"How did it go? Did you lose feeling in anything? Are you okay?" Greg asked, a flurry of more questions wanting to burst out of him. I slowly limped toward him, my bad knee acting up, staring at his feet.

"It went..fine, I guess," I lifted my gaze up to his face, giving a small tilt of the head. "Since when have you not worn shoes around the place?"

The question caught him off guard, a barely noticeable flinch and a twitch of the tail. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes scanning my face.

"What did they do to you?" The sudden noise was a lot quieter than I thought it would be. I took a step closer, having to tilt my head back to even see his face.

"They stabbed a needle in my eye, Muffin. And now I can see out of said eye," I gave him a small smile, hoping to calm his worries a little.

"And....you are okay with people stabbing heroin needles into your eye? Because it doesn't look any different to me," his hand brushed my cheek, tugging my bottom eyelid down a little with his thumb.

I grabbed his hand and gently pushed it away, "wrong eye, doofus," my other hand tucked my bangs into my ear. My right eye had a clearer view, taking in all of his features. Last time I had physically seen him was when I was four, 13 years prior.

The little tufts of hair, resembling cat ears, twitched. His horns were curled, resting on the top of his head, and the last 2 inches of hair seemed to be a natural lime green. The ends barely reached his shoulders, giving him a sophisticated yet young appearance.

His pine green eyes scanned my face, trying to read any change in emotion. He was a full foot taller than me, standing at 6' exact, keeping the top of my head at his shoulder. Him being a year older than me gave him a slightly more mature look, yet he was vastly different.

"Oh! Jesus!" He jumped, taking a step back. "Are you sure they didn't fuck it up? It looks kind of broken...and not good."

I cocked my head to one side, raising an eyebrow. It was rare to hear Greg swear, he was usually so calm and polite. He held a hand out, not to grab but to keep me away, as if I were a danger.

"What are you going on about now? It should be the same as usual. Perhaps a darker blue but that is about it," I started, preparing a small speech in my head.

He took his phone out of his back pocket, opening the camera. Pressing a couple buttons, I assume, he turned the screen toward me. My reflection caused me to flinch.

My golden blonde hair was gentle, small curls cascading around my face leading to my ankles. My left eye, having been blind for years, was a pale ice-like blue. There were a few scars littered across my face. Some from knives, others from a whip. What really stood out was my other eye, sending a tiny jolt down my spine.

It was a bruise purple, lined with what seemed like cracks. It had a look about it, something that drew you toward it. Making you want to keep looking but also tear your gaze away. They way it look spoke out, scaring away anyone.

"Well God flippity damnit!" I spat out, nearly slapping his phone away. "I thought I would just have one eye to suffer with but this proves me, and everyone else, wrong!"

A laugh threatened to escape from Greg's throat as he took my bangs, fluffing them back in front of my eye. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth before he shoved his phone back into its pocket home.

"At least you won't need a scary Halloween costume. You come equipped with something that will give children nightmares for months," the small laugh broke free as the time went on.

"Oh ha ha. Very funny. I already scare children on a daily basis," I puffed out my chest, placing my fists on my hips. I knew the way I looked without seeing it. I looked like the worst superhero in the world.

His laugh faded and we were doused in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, just a short pause before the next joke. After a moment, he stepped closer so he could stand at my side. His arm wrapped itself over my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze.

"Welp, we have a country to run," he removed his arm, a rush of cold air replacing where his limb used to be. "What half would you like to deal with, the Demons or the Angels?"

Before I could answer, a knocking noise filled the air. Both of our heads snapped toward the staircase, a set of doors placed at the top, and the sound rang out again. My hand flew to the gun at my hip, Muffin's to his sword.

"Do we answer this? Or just ignore it?" My question was quiet, trying to ensure that whoever was outside the door couldn't hear us.

"Its someone knocking! Of course we should answer it!" He hissed, gently pushing me towards the door.

Our footsteps were silent, two pairs of socks just sliding across the floor. I bounced up the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. Greg, however, seemed to be walking normally, easily taking the steps three at a time.

My hand brushed the handle, the cool metal soaking into my body heat. As I turned the knob, the door clicking as it unlatched, another knock rang out. The door shook as I opened it, my tail instinctively entwining itself with Muffin's, a familiar face appearing on the other side.

"Can I help yo-"

"Britney!" She squealed, leaping at me with her arms outstretched. If it weren't for Greg's hand on my back, the two of us would have fallen down the stairs. I was trapped in a bear hug.

"Betty, would you get off of her? She clearly doesn't enjoy the hugging," with those words my twin sister was pried off of me, her arms removed from me and instantly latching onto Greg..

"Muffin...you alright?"

"Betty, what is with you and hugs?" His voice was strained, his arms caught between their two bodies as he tried to remove the hugging menace. "I'm sorry but I don't want to be strangled to death. That is not the way I want to go!"

Her limbs unraveled themselves from his body, the halo on her head catching a patch of sunlight as she jumped down. She wore a knee-length white dress, a pair of light blue heels, and her hair was done in a short braid. Strangely, she was a year younger and she was already taller than me.

Standing up straight, she reached a height of about 5' 7'' but I had her beat in the curve department. While I had some squish to me, and in "the right places" according to some, she resembled that of a cutting board, being flat in most places. Her crystal green eyes scanned me up and down, landing on my right knee.

"Is your leg still bugging you?" She asked, her voice gentle. "You really should check in with Weiss. I am pretty sure she can fix it up." Betty made her way down the stairs, her heels clicking with every step.

"I guess I am dealing with the Angels," I replied, following my sister with Greg trailing behind.