Dancer

He was the epitome of beauty, and itʼs strange that Iʼd never realized it before. I looked into his face every day since we were born. Maybe itʼs conceited or selfish that I find my twin brother suddenly so gorgeous since we share mostly the same face and all…

Ah, well.

"Anise," his grip on my arm tightens comfortably, "dance with me."

"Why?"

"Why so reluctant?" He retorts with his glowing smile.

"Go find a girl that's not your sister to dance with," I suggest coldly, not making any move to pull myself away from him.

"What other girl?" He asks breathlessly, snaking his arm from my elbow to around my waist. "Come on now, Ani, you always danced with me at parties like this before."

"Aric," I huff. Really, he's right, and I do want this to be like the other parties we went to with mother and father when we were children, but this is my coming-out ball and were no longer children.

"Did they really break you at that finishing school?" Aric asks condescendingly. "Where's my best friend who I used to sneak cakes with? Where's my sister, my twin?"

"You're incorrigible," I deadpan, crossing my arms but leaning into his embrace.

"Big words," he teases. "Ani, please dance with me?" His fingers rest on my chin, guiding it up to meet his crystal blue eyes with my own.

"Fine," I growl, my tone not at all matching the smile that breaks my stony facade.

"Yes!" Aric practically squeals, taking my black gloves hand and leading me into the edges of the swirling mass of partygoers. As he rests his empty hand on my waist and begins to spin me around in the enthusiastic way I remember, Aric rests his chin on my head.

"I'm glad you're finally back from finishing school," he mutters, barely discernible over the classical violins and chatter.

"I am too, Aric," I agree. Sighing and resting my forehead on his arm, I think to myself, And I'll never deny you a dance again.