Alicia and I (Lesbian Story)

Chapter Seven

I held my breath as I gazed up at Alicia’s looming, boxy white mansion - jealousy flashed through my mind as usual, and, as usual, I dismissed the envy. Alicia’s fingers were still tightly, almost desperately gripping mine, as if... I was the only thing she had left. That thought alone banished any trace of resentment still lingering in the darker corners of my mind.

I glanced at Alicia hesitantly. She was gnawing on her lip, denting its plump surface and scraping off the immaculately-applied gloss. When she felt my gaze on the side of her face, she turned, her dark-blue eyes deep and austere. She offered an unsubstantial, small smile and pulled me towards the looming, white, twin-faced front door, pausing after she jammed the keys in the lock.

‘Don’t judge him,’ she murmured quietly. The soft sound could’ve almost been mistaken for a whistle of wind, but I heard it. I knew it was there.

‘Judge who? Your dad?’ I guessed. She hadn’t explained anything through the social silence of the ear-splitting gurgle of the bus’s motor. ‘Why would I -’

‘Not my dad. He’s not home.’

‘Who then?’ I demanded, raising my voice slightly as I grasped as Alicia’s suddenly-limp fingers. ‘What are you talking about?’ I begged.

She didn’t answer. She only wrenched the key through the keyhole and flung the door open ferociously, an icy, polite grin pasted motionlessly across her chewed lips as she marched into the apartment and called; ‘Ash?’

‘Ash?’ I repeated faintly. ‘Alicia! Seriously! Who is -’

‘Hello, sister,’ a smooth, silky voice purred from the shadows of the hallways. I peered into the veil of darkness; a figure, of whom I assumed was attached to the lustrous voice, strode through the dim gloom to meet me; the iciest, most ruthless scowl adorning his full, pallid, pink lips.

He was pale. That was the first thing I noticed about him - that smooth, paper-white complexion of his colourless face, the way in which even the dimmest rays of daylight illuminated his ivory skin. The second thing I noticed about him was that he was beautiful. Almost too beautiful to be a boy. He had high cheekbones and a sharp, angular jaw. His wide, almond-shaped eyes were framed with long, white-gold lashes that perfectly matched the golden-ash-blond shade of his floppy, silken hair that fell down to around his pointed chin. His eyes were the only part of him that wasn’t colourless and ashen - they were a deep, sapphire-blue; the same as Alicia’s.

Which brought me to the third thing I noticed about the pale angel in front of me: he looked almost exactly like Alicia. In fact, he was Alicia - well, he would be, if Alicia cut her hair, if her boobs dropped off, and if she were thrown into the washing machine with too much bleach. Their faces were almost identical.

Great, I found myself thinking dryly. More inhumanly beautiful people. Just what I needed.

‘Ash.’ Alicia regarded the boy before her coldly - and he did the same. A sadistic smirk tugged one corner of his lips up as his eyes travelled her critically. The boy crossed his arms over his chest and slumped against the wall behind him. Alicia planted her fists on her hips and straightened her back.

‘Alicia.’

‘Well?’ Alicia demanded impatiently. ‘You called me. So, what do you want?’

‘What if I simply wanted the pleasure of my sister’s company?’ Ash’s smirk had began to waver - he fought to hold up the cold, calculating expression with the ease of his sister. I felt a slight twinge in the pit on my stomach as I realised that, maybe, Ash really wasn’t like his sister.

‘Don’t make me laugh,’ Alicia snarled. She sounded far from laughter - any trace of her smile had faded into a venomous sneer as she glared disdainfully as her brother, with eyes like glacial ice.