Temperature

the bedroom

Warning: 16+

The Martinez twins walked into the dimly-lit bedroom shortly before the guests. "This is where we sleep and hang out." Emilio announced with his arms outstretched to the sides. The last two stumbled in, eyes unadjusted to the low lighting.

The room was cream-colored, from the knotted drapes to the yellow tint of the low-hanging chandeliers that cast intricately shaped patterns on the wall. The faint scent of jasmine and lavender lingered in the air, wafting from the melted candles. There was a sultry mood in the air, seductive undertones lurking beneath the surface.

Emilio laid down on his back comfortably with his legs extended out in the center of the bed. Ivan followed close behind but hovered by the foot of the bed instead.

Chance and Anthony, however, were busy exploring the unfamiliar space. They had checked out the framed photos that sat on the twins' dresser, the unfinished artwork that hung above the bed, the view beyond the drapes covering the windows.

But Chance dug a little bit deeper into his search than Anthony who had simply given up and joined Emilio, sitting hip-to-hip with him. The trio began to socialize, discussing some mundane topic to which Anthony led and Emilio commented on frequently while Ivan nodded in agreement.

Chance was far more curious, possibly obsessive, than he should have been.
He picked up a single photo that had been resting on the far corner of the nightstand then glanced back at the guys once before scanning the photograph over.

It was a family photo. The twins stood in between two females, both of them taller. The candle light flickered off of the picture, making their faces glow and darken occasionally.

Emilio and Ivan were very blonde as children, their lashes equally as light. Their sister's shade  was the same and her irises tinted a deep ocean blue. Her arms rested around their shoulders, her ring flashing in the camera light. She was a bit older than the boys, and strangely familiar; she rang a bell in his mind. Their mother was the fairest, her features very gentle and angelic, and Chance could see where the boys had gotten their looks from.

Their lighthearted smiles and their innocent, large eyes brought a sense of comfort for Chance, but it vanished when he realized that there was nobody else in the photo. There was only their sister and mother. No father figure was present. Chance raised a brow at the information. It made him wonder how difficult it must have been for a single mother to care for three children in a low-income household.

Someone laughed loudly, bringing him back to the present. He quickly dropped the polaroid back where he found in and invited himself into the conversation: he didn't want to evoke any sort of negative reaction from the twins.

Chance was resting opposite of Anthony, his elbows casually bent behind him, sinking into the bed, so he was facing them. Anthony noticed Ivan was the farthest away, standing at the foot of the bed and he opened his mouth to speak up. Before he knew it, Emilio had already beat him to the punch;

Emilio wordlessly urged Ivan to come over to him with his piercing blue eyes that were only imprinted onto his brother.

Ivan headed towards him, hands in his pockets. The quiet boy situated himself beneath the others' arm and rested his head on Emilio's chest. The elder ran his hands through the silky golden waves, almost as if he was claiming him.