[Completed✔] ❝I can't look at you while you're like this.❞ Bianca has hidden her rough past from her two teenage daughters who are hot on the trail to uncovering who their real father truly is. Delia and Macy stumble across a whirlwind of secrets wh...
This story is based around 16/17 years after the last one. It revolves around Bianca and Dallas and their daughters.
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August 7th, 2011. 2:30 P.M.
A pair of teenage girls swept the attic of their childhood home at the request of their mother's plea to organise a bunch of unmarked cardboard boxes which had yet to be identified, and left to rot. One of the twins, Delia found a packet of cigarettes, she looks and smiles at Macy the other twin. Macy doesn't smile back, Delia sensed the fear of getting caught in her eyes, she had always been the more submissive of the two.
"Want one?" Delia asked, already knowing the answer to that question by the look on her sisters face. Macy was afraid that the attic was already stuffy enough, so heated and dusty that it would in fact spark a flame from one of those old tobacco smokes, and send the whole house up in flames. "No." Macy said, "It's not safe."
She watched nervously as her defying sister did as she pleased, "Death is my calling." Delia lights the end, then takes a huge inhale-- only to hack harshly at the impact of the smoke on her virgin lungs. Macy takes the cigarette from her fingers, and puts it out against of the boxes. The pair move on in their search through endless boxes in the sweltering heat.
The twins didn't have much in common besides their birth date. Macy was more well spoken, more polite and in return her appearance accommodated her personality with soft features and delicate brunette hair. Delia challenged the idea of refraining herself as her sister did, she was much more forward and often came across as aggressive.
Macy wipes the sweat from her forehead, taking a framed photograph from the box. The glass had been shattered all throughout it, and she was more focused on accidentally cutting herself with it than anything else. Delia tilts her head to what her sister has a hold of, "Let me see that. Dated 1994." they gather around it.
The photograph is scratched, and torn with age. It holds the viewing of a young couple, perhaps around their own age sixteen. The woman is slim, soft and has very long golden hair drawn back behind her ears whilst the man beside her is the polar opposite, yet they seemed so in love. He's got a drinkers face, but still quite young, maybe a few years older than her. He's wearing a hat that shades over half his face, making it almost impossible to make out finer details, but still they could see his darkened eyebrows over all else.
His hair is scuffed, dark brunette, Macy holds the photo up to her sisters face. Delia indeed possessed the same scowl of discontent without even trying, it seemed as if the man didn't show his emotions well on the outside. The astonishing resemblance on a closer inspection, it was uncanny. With the help of a few other photos, they began to piece together that this may as well be their mother... and perhaps their absent father.
Delia and Macy jumped back from their stances as their mother climbed the attic ladder. Macy hid the photograph behind her back, but knew Delia would confront her anyway, "Bianca, Bianca, Bianca." she tasked, going forth with the inspection. Bianca did raised her eyebrow, before shutting her teenage daughter down, "Bianca? Oh, I think you mean mom?"
"Fine." Delia gritted her teeth, she hated being told, "Mom." Macy jumped in before Delia could say anymore, "Boy. Do we have our work cut out for us!" she said. Bianca notices something behind her back, flapping around, "What's behind your back?" Macy gulped, she was a horrible liar, "Nothing..."
Bianca took it by force. Her eyes fixated on Dallas, they froze on him. Memories flooded back as they did when she first gave birth. She allowed them to fade as the girls aged, but often got unfriendly reminders of him at the same time. Delia called out, "Mom?" but Bianca was stuck at the age of seventeen, stuck in Dallas' arms again. Macy shook her arm, "Are you alright?"
Bianca snapped out of it, "I don't want to speak about him. Get rid of this." she trembled so much that she dropped it and fled downstairs again. Delia and Macy looked at each other in disbelief, "Now we've got to find out about him."
August 7th, 2011. 6:49 P.M.
The dinner table that night was quieter than usual. Delia slouched on the seat, using the fork to play with her food instead of eating it. Whilst Bianca did the same, pouting much less. Paul being the mediator of the family noticed, "Right. What is the problem tonight?" he asked, wanting to settle it once and for all.
"Paul, she won't tell us about our father." Delia practically told on her own mother. It's like that in this house, Bianca was so young when she had them, even at her age now she is still very young. It was hard for her own children to treat her as an authority figure. "Oh." Paul said shocked, not expecting this to come out of the blue. Of course he knew all about Dallas...
"Did I not tell you both that I didn't want to speak about it!?" Bianca stressed, pulling the mom card, "And as your mother I demand you respect that!" Delia wasn't about to let up so easily, "We have the right to know!" she slammed her fist on the table.
Macy sat back, letting them both have at it, basically foaming at the mouth. She knew if they were unleashed, all hell would break loose. "Calm down." Paul settled them both down before it could escalate further.
Delia and Bianca go head to head often, both were as stubborn as each other. In a sense they were more identical than Macy and Delia were. Bianca finally stood up from the table, and fled the room for a second time. Paul exhales deeply, "Girls. Leave it alone."
