Family ties were the only connection between them. Other than that, the two sisters had absolutely nothing in common. The older sister had long dark hair and a beautiful but unfriendly countenance, while the younger was a glossy blue-haired young woman with expressive eyes and a gentle, sweet smile.
Where Merli was reserved, Lapis was uninhibited. While Merli was standoffish and unapproachable, her sister possessed an easy, carefree manner. Lapis wore her heart on her sleeve, but not even when enveloped in the deepest haze of passion would any real warmth creep into Merli's expression. Afterwards, she would never stay with him, preferring to get dressed, slip her stilettos on, and leave.
Lapis would rest her head on his chest, listen to his heartbeat, talk dreamy nonsense about love and being loved, and Wil would reassure her that they were kindred spirits and that she was the one. Perhaps it was true that they were, however. Both of them were the failures of the family. Perhaps that was why Wil preferred Merli over her sister. Lapis may have understood him, but he had never felt the need to be understood.
Lapis had already surrendered everything she could to him; there was nothing left to take from her. Merli, on the other hand, had taken from him and surrendered nothing of herself. Her utter indifference frustrated and confounded him like nothing else ever had, and he was determined to find a way to force her emotions to the surface, to disrupt the icy calmness of her demeanor. He had always felt the need to be admired, and how better to win admiration than to achieve something thought impossible?
That determination led him to make a decision as he lay in the sheets lightly scented with Lapis' perfume, resting on the pillow that Merli's hair had fanned across the previous night.
He told Lapis first, and her reaction was as swift as summer lightning. He didn't even reach up to rub his stinging face when she struck him, stayed silent while she screamed, remained impassive as her fury at such an unforgivable betrayal gave way to tears and disbelieving whispers of "I loved you". He'd been in this situation before, it was nothing new or special. It was her sister's reaction to his confession that Wil was more interested in. He was confident that it would at least spark some anger in her, considering her hatred for her younger sibling.
"You and your sister may have your differences, but you both like to be touched a certain way, I've noticed."
It was while Merli was dressing that he made this casual comment. She stopped, straightened up, and he waited with anticipation, eager for the opportunity to catch a glimpse of her heart. This would prove it, prove she felt something for him, that he had managed to chip away at the ice, do what no one else could. When she turned to face him, though, it was only to fix him with a glacial stare. There was no detectable change in her air whatsoever.
". . . And?"
"And?" Wil repeated, incredulous, forgetting himself. "Were you even listening to what I just told you?"
"Of course I was listening."
"And you have nothing to say? You don't even care that me and your sister —"
"My sister," she interrupted, "has a habit of picking the wrong men."
That was all the attention she saw fit to grace the matter with. Turning back to the task at hand, she finished getting dressed, slipped her stilettos on, and left.