𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 || 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇

19 | MY BROTHER'S GIRLFRIEND

【 NINETEEN 】
➤ MY BROTHER'S GIRLFRIEND

❝ if you love someone,
you tell them. ❞

oOo

THE FIRST TIME YOU SAW HER was at a family reunion.

She wasn't related to you—oh goodness, that would be a catastrophe. You had ogled wide-eyed at her presence in your sitting room until she came up, beaming, and introduced herself as your brother's girlfriend.

Although slightly relieved, you had still gone slack-jawed at her outstretched hand. [b/n] had told you about his new girlfriend, of course, but by God, she was the most beautiful person you had ever seen in your life.

"I—I'm [y/n]," you'd mumbled dreamily when she asked for your name. [c/n] gave you a gorgeous smile.

"You look just like your brother," she observed, gazing intensely at your flushed cheeks, and then boring deeply into your [e/c] eyes. When her eyes finally settled on the [h/c] hair you shared with your twin brother, she smiled.

[b/n] and you were not as close as most people expected twins would be. You'd never exactly told him or your parents about your sexuality, fearing their reactions.

"You're—uh, very pretty," you coughed. [c/n] turned glowing eyes to you, a blush dusting her cheeks.

"As are you," she beamed, plucking up all her courage and touching a single lock of your hair. Your face flamed instantly.

"I always thought [b/n]'s hair was beautiful," she mused aloud. "But yours, [y/n], it's ethereal."

You grinned. 

That was not the last you saw of [c/n]. After coincidentally running into her at Starbucks the next day, you had exchanged numbers, and by the end of the month, you two were best friends.

Every time she laughed; a melodious, tinkling sound, you only fell deeper into the grave you had dug yourself. All the proof you needed in God was in [c/n] [c/l/n], because to you, she was a gift from the heavens.

Your conscience, however, was about ready to commit suicide. You couldn't do this to [b/n]! He was your twin, the one who had been by your side from the very beginning.

And then one Saturday, when you were at Starbucks for your ritual morning drinks, [c/n] dropped her coffee all over your shirt. She'd apologised as much as she could in between giggles, trying to wipe the stain away with a paper towel.

"It won't go," you said weakly. "It's alright, I'll get home and wash it."

[c/n] gazed up solemnly at you, before lifting her cup and tipping the rest of its contents onto her own dress. You watched with an unhinged jaw as she set aside her coffee, futilely swiping her tissue over her top.

"Now we can match," she smiled adorably.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is exactly when you fell in love with your brother's girlfriend.

• • •

You sat on the edge of your bed, cradling your head in your hands. This had gone on long enough. Being around [c/n] was driving you insane, and you could not say a word to [b/n] without feeling like a filthy liar.

You had to tell her.

"Hey, hey, you, you!" [c/n] sang her greeting as she skipped into your room, her cheerful mood falling as soon as she spotted your disturbed profile.

"[y/n/n]?" she called softly, noticing the way your shoulders convulsed with silent sobs. Sinking down onto the bed beside you, she embraced you tightly.

"Angel, what's wrong?"

You cried harder at the nickname. You knew all her lovely names meant absolutely nothing: every  time she called you angel, or honey,  you could only remember that she had a boyfriend to call those names too.

One that just happened to be your womb-mate.

"Don't cry, dear," she said soothingly. "Tell me, what's the problem?"

"You!" you burst out, letting the cat out of the bag. "You're the problem"

[c/n] froze. "W-What?"

You tore away from her grasp, her fingers that once left fire on your skin suddenly burning you.

"You're the problem, [c/n]," you paced around your room frustratedly, running your fingers through your [long/short] locks.

"Every time I close my eyes, every time I open them; I can only see you. You're the one thought that will never leave the back of my mind, and you're the one thing that can send my heart racing."

[c/n] did not say anything, and the silence only served the purpose of riling you up even more.

"And I hate it! Because the fact that you're with my brother means I should see you as my sister, but I cannot!"

You turned to look furiously at her, but to your surprise, she was already staring at you.

"I can't see you as my sister, [c/n], not when I'm in love with you."

You expected her to huff, perhaps. Maybe even get up and leave your room, block your contact and never talk to you again.

But she didn't.

[c/n] walked painfully towards you, and she did not stop until she had reduced the distance between you and her to a few centimetres. Your breath caught in your throat.

You didn't move.

"Who's asking you to see me as a sister?" breathed [c/n], her hand sliding over your jaw. "I never wanted you to see me as a sister, [y/n]."

Nothing more, nothing less. You stood in silence for a while, wondering if you were hallucinating the way she seemed to be leaning in, her fingers finding the curve of your waist to pull you closer—

"No," you said quietly, breaking out of her grasp. "We can't, [c/n]. You can't do that to [b/n]. He'll be devastated."

She hovered before you, lips still pulled into a pout, but [c/n] understood a rejection when she heard one. You were right, after all.

To you and her, [b/n] would always be a barrier. A wall of separation.

"Sometimes," [c/n] sighed wistfully, her [c/e/c] gaze locking with yours.

"Sometimes I think I'm dating the wrong [l/n] twin."

oOo