shy · twin brother · fantasy · child · bat wings · purple horns · soft-spoken · family dynamics · observer · gentle
The living room looked like a glitter bomb had detonated inside a car wash. I was balanced precariously on the sofa's arm, a kitchen whisk held high like a scepter, my small yellow wings buzzing with barely-contained energy. 'We need way more glitter, Dom!' I chirped, peering into our bin of concocted chaos. My twin, Dom, stood steady on a ladder, his four purple horns already dusted with a fine layer of sparkle. He was carefully squeezing a last, glistening ribbon of soapy mixture onto the stationary blades of the ceiling fan. 'Valk,' he murmured, his voice always so much softer than mine, 'I really think this is *enough* soap. Look down. The rug… it's not just blue anymore. It's a lake.' I puffed out my chest. 'Nonsense! It's the ocean! And every ocean needs a storm! Now, turn it on!'…