centerBrotherly LoveFrom Daniel Parker's Dark Hearts Trilogy/center
pWorking his way through the large house in the utter darkness of the early morning hours had become child's play for Isnard over the years. The only thing making the task even the least bit difficult was his need to stay completely quiet, as not to awaken his twin. Although he would never admit it, even to himself, it was only partly out of selfishness that he did not want Jean-Paul aware of his entrances. There was also the absolutely unbidden need to keep his brother as comfortable as was possible...as alive as possible./p
pIsnard wasn't sure of that, of course. His brother was marassa as he was marassa, the loa could very well allow JP the knowledge of the Red Sect without a seconds thought, knowing that if one twin were it's Emperor, the other would eventually uncover it's existence. The other couchan gris might not be so forgiving, though./p
pSlinking up to his brother's slightly open door he peered inside, watching the identical body thrashing in the single sheet placed over it. Jean-Paul never slept well, especially not on nights like this, where he and Isnard had a fight before going their separate ways. That knowledge had always been darkly satisfying: That he and he alone could drag such worry from his twin's gentle soul. Until recently, of course. The new girl on Rue Dumaine was an unwanted distraction to JP's heart. Allie had insinuated herself into their lives, drawing the "good" twin's attention away from his darker half and towards her sickeningly shallow light. It was for that, if nothing else, that he would corrupt and hurt her./p
pHe was aware that he had a possessive streak when it came to his brother, and why not? Jean-Paul represented the other half of his soul, everything he hated and yet desired with an obsessive fervor. Desired to have, desired to destroy. None of the Sect, who had a reason to want someone who had the potential power of their leader dead, would dare touch his brother for fear of the Emperor's wrath. Even other's involved in the art of voodoo would shy away from his brother, not knowing why but aware there was some danger they would meet if they would get too close./p
pA moan from the form on the bed drew Isnard into the room, until he was stopped by the side of his brother's bed. Just as he was beautiful, so was the flip side of the coin a sight to behold. The same dark hair and perfect skin, kissable lips, and long thick lashes. Girls went crazy over them both, until they began to flaunt themselves, wanting at least one of the brothers to respond. That was Isnard's cue to act the flirt, the lover, to spare the purity of his twin from the advances of those who wished to steal it from him./p
pHe sat down on the bed, a hand brushing lightly over Jean-Paul's forehead, causing the other boy to still, relax into the touch. "It's okay," he murmured, so soft that it was barely a caress of noise against the night air. "I'm home." With that he stood and retreated to his on bedroom, still feeling the heat on his palm were his skin had made contact with his twin's, that small amount of contact causing a stirring in his groin he couldn't deny./p
pIt was decided: he would make his brother, his brother, forget about his new girl, however it was necessary. He would seduce, blackmail, even kill. After all, Allie was merely a tool, Jean-Paul was a marassa./p
pWorking his way through the large house in the utter darkness of the early morning hours had become child's play for Isnard over the years. The only thing making the task even the least bit difficult was his need to stay completely quiet, as not to awaken his twin. Although he would never admit it, even to himself, it was only partly out of selfishness that he did not want Jean-Paul aware of his entrances. There was also the absolutely unbidden need to keep his brother as comfortable as was possible...as alive as possible./p
pIsnard wasn't sure of that, of course. His brother was marassa as he was marassa, the loa could very well allow JP the knowledge of the Red Sect without a seconds thought, knowing that if one twin were it's Emperor, the other would eventually uncover it's existence. The other couchan gris might not be so forgiving, though./p
pSlinking up to his brother's slightly open door he peered inside, watching the identical body thrashing in the single sheet placed over it. Jean-Paul never slept well, especially not on nights like this, where he and Isnard had a fight before going their separate ways. That knowledge had always been darkly satisfying: That he and he alone could drag such worry from his twin's gentle soul. Until recently, of course. The new girl on Rue Dumaine was an unwanted distraction to JP's heart. Allie had insinuated herself into their lives, drawing the "good" twin's attention away from his darker half and towards her sickeningly shallow light. It was for that, if nothing else, that he would corrupt and hurt her./p
pHe was aware that he had a possessive streak when it came to his brother, and why not? Jean-Paul represented the other half of his soul, everything he hated and yet desired with an obsessive fervor. Desired to have, desired to destroy. None of the Sect, who had a reason to want someone who had the potential power of their leader dead, would dare touch his brother for fear of the Emperor's wrath. Even other's involved in the art of voodoo would shy away from his brother, not knowing why but aware there was some danger they would meet if they would get too close./p
pA moan from the form on the bed drew Isnard into the room, until he was stopped by the side of his brother's bed. Just as he was beautiful, so was the flip side of the coin a sight to behold. The same dark hair and perfect skin, kissable lips, and long thick lashes. Girls went crazy over them both, until they began to flaunt themselves, wanting at least one of the brothers to respond. That was Isnard's cue to act the flirt, the lover, to spare the purity of his twin from the advances of those who wished to steal it from him./p
pHe sat down on the bed, a hand brushing lightly over Jean-Paul's forehead, causing the other boy to still, relax into the touch. "It's okay," he murmured, so soft that it was barely a caress of noise against the night air. "I'm home." With that he stood and retreated to his on bedroom, still feeling the heat on his palm were his skin had made contact with his twin's, that small amount of contact causing a stirring in his groin he couldn't deny./p
pIt was decided: he would make his brother, his brother, forget about his new girl, however it was necessary. He would seduce, blackmail, even kill. After all, Allie was merely a tool, Jean-Paul was a marassa./p