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“I’m not drinking that,” he scoffs.
“Cute,” Rowan adds, looking over. He abandons the stove to come and get his drink. He tries it, and declares it’s actually very good and encourages Linden to do the same.
“No,”
“No? You won’t try a drink because it’s pink?” I ask with slight amusement and a lot of judgement.
“No, I won’t try the drink because I’m allergic to strawberries.”
“Really? I’m pretty sure your brother wouldn’t tell you to drink something that would kill you.”
“It’s not that kind of allergy. Different foodstuffs affect me differently.”
“Is that a fae thing or does food just think you’re an asshole too?”
“Harsh.”
“True.”
“We’ll see. Strawberries make me hyper. No-one wants to see that.”
I mutter a spell under my breath and turn his pale pink drink into a dark red one instead.
“There you go, it’s cherry flavored now,” I tell him. He apprehensively takes a sip, as if I’ve somehow tricked him, but relaxes when he realizes I’m telling the truth.
“Hey, this is pretty good!”
“Duh, I’m not trying to poison you,” I scoff.
“Dinner’s ready,” Rowan calls, carrying the pan over to the table. I jump up and grab some bowls and cutlery.
“It looks and smells amazing,” I tell him. He’s made some sort of Thai prawn dish and my mouth is already watering.
“So, Jasmine, have you figured out a way to tell us apart?” Rowan asks. Now that his wings are gone, I realize that facially, I can’t.
“Your wings. Your different shirts.” I shrug, knowing my excuses are weak at best.
The twins grin at each other and wordlessly pull their shirts off over their heads.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I stammer, distracted by their toned, tanned bodies.
“Close your eyes,” Rowan tells me. I do and hear shuffling as they move.
“Okay,” one says, and I open my eyes. Nope. I have no idea who’s who. Wanting to impress the twins and prove that I can tell them apart, I mutter a quick spell to rectify that under my breath.
I gasp as two orange shimmering bands of light form between me and the twins. That wasn’t what I was expecting, at all. Did the spell go wrong?
“What the hell is that?” I ask.
“What’s what?” the twins ask. I look up at them, confused why they can’t see the orange fiery web that’s connecting us. I’m about to say something when I notice that my spell did in fact work.
I burst out laughing.
“What?”
“What’s so funny?”
I can’t answer. At this point, I can’t breathe. I do manage to point though. I watch as the twins turn to each other and take in the effect of my spell. Somehow, I have managed to turn their skin, the color of their wings.
