In The Sight of These Hills (Dolan Twins)

Of Claws and Dances

Chapter 13: Of Claws and Dances

"There are no words

inside his mouth,

inside his golden eyes.

So we stand, silent,

both of us tense

under the speechless but faithful trees."

-Mary Oliver's "Meeting Wolf"

"I really don't want to do this, G," said Ethan, as he hovered his hands over his twin's belly. Grayson sighed dramatically and threw his head back onto his pillow, but it wasn't because he was upset over that. No, he could feel his sharpened fingernails, his claws, dig into the flesh of his palms, and cut into the tender flesh.  He didn't want to show Ethan, he didn't want to scare him.

Grayson opened his mouth, more tired than irritated now, and said, "Well, maybe you shouldn't have put it in, huh?

Ethan looked at him guilty, but wasn't he just trying to help?

"Sorry," he said, and stilled his hand over the metal. He was debating on pulling it and everything in his mind told him, no, don't do it. He didn't want to hurt Grayson.

"OK, are you ready, Gray?"

 Ethan was looking down at his twin and Grayson gave a look that said: just do it already. He clenched his jaw tight, his eyes rolling back in his head when Ethan's yanked, pausing a moment before doing so, and it ripped the flesh, blood squirting upwards, pulling it totally free from the flesh.

Grayson yelled at the pain, closing his eyes tight, and threw back his head, growling. 

He was growling. 

What the hell?

It was a deep rumble at the back of his throat, thick and rugged, kind of like a car motor, kind of scary. He was growling like a freaking animal and he couldn't help it. Ethan went kind of still, mouth a little open, watching as the blood bloomed.

Ethan just stared at him, freezing, eyes wide, until Grayson looked at him again. He stopped growling, as though he had never started. It was like when they were in the library.

"Wow," said Ethan in a kind of defeated way, a fallen way. He got off the bed, and broke eye contact with his brother. He looked at the window frame, eyes distant and not all the way present in the moment. 

The flesh healed almost instantly, stitching together until it was perfectly smooth, despite the blood. Grayson watched at it did so, and it still felt odd, tainted, a cursed ability, the sensation not yet made normal by himself.

That's all Ethan said, Wow, face like that of a guy completely helpless. Grasping the ring, he felt it in his hand, touching the blood on it, looking down at it, and without any indication, pulled back his arm and chunked it with all his might at one of their photo colored walls. It bounced off, with a ping, landing on the floor to settle there like a statement. 

Grayson blinked at him, a quick flutter of his black eyelashes, at his twin's sudden display of anger. He could smell it on him, novel and thick, and he did not like it.

"Hey, it's fine," Grayson said softly, but Ethan wasn't listening. His face was a form of fury, and distress. Grayson swung his legs over the bed, getting up. Reaching out, Ethan pulled away from his touch, and without a word, stomped out of the room.