A/N: I cannot believe I never posted this story
A/N: I cannot believe I never posted this story! It was finished on August 5th, 2004! Wow. I worked a really long time on this, and I hope everyone enjoys it.
Warning: It is F/G Weasley twincest, but it is definitely PG. So please, if you review, don't flame about how sick it is, OK? Also, it was written mostly in 2003 and finally FINISHED in 2004, so it was before book 6 or 7, so don't judge it on that either. Other than that, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters presented . . I only wish I did.
Just My Reflection
Sometimes what you see isn't what is really in front of you. That goes for everyone and everything you could ever wish your eyes to fall upon. No matter what you glare at, gaze towards, or just see, there is something deeper than the surface. What's inside is what counts right? You can't tell what a person is thinking by just looking at them, or see how they feel just by the way they appear. Sight is the most deceiving senses that one can have. Touch, you can feel something with your skin and know it is there; taste, you can taste anything you let a taste bud touch; smell, you could catch the scent of something from meters away; hearing is truthful, you can always trust what you hear, just not the people you hear from.
Sight betrays your mind, your thoughts, and your actions. You can see a person the way they want you to see them, but you can't get inside their head. For all you know, you may never figure out what is going on in there, they could be lying all the time and you wouldn't be the wiser. Your best friend could be living a life you don't even know. Your own mother could have some deep secrets that she has kept from everyone. And you wouldn't know. No one would, and that is why sight is just a way to fool people into thinking something else.
--
Forge has got to be the most important person in my life, he's not only my brother, but my twin. We have a stronger bond with one other than with anyone else, and the rest of the family doesn't have as sturdy of a bond as we do. Twins are like that, you could probably ask the Patil twins and I'm almost positive that they would agree. It's even better when you're identical, even more mischief to find ourselves into. That is the exact reason why we created names to fool people; Gred and Forge. No one could ever tell which one of us was which, because we'd trade which one we were every so often.
To solve mix up problems, Mum started making us sweaters with our initials on them. Forge and I both believe that she only made them for the rest of the family so we didn't feel like they couldn't tell us apart. I don't blame her, what with a half dozen red headed boys running around the house, I'd get confused too. Strangely enough we use this to our advantage, switching sweaters, or saying that we did. You never could be too sure who was who by just looking at us.
--
The hard water pelted Gred's skin, massaging and soothing his tense shoulders and back muscles. Water met soap to form suds along his arms while the loofah, manila and coarse, washed them away. The hot liquid gradually became cooler, making the temperature of the shower decrease, which brought his eyebrow, full and red, to rise. Before anything could register inside Gred's head, the once comforting heat turned into jagged icicles gouging his backside. His first instinct was to jump out from behind the shower curtain, but he allowed some thought process to occur before his action and simply turned the rushing water off. It wasn't until then that he heard the flushing of the toilet, that he knew the cause of his position; standing in a turned off shower, lathered in soap, and completely frozen.
"Damn bloody siblings!" Gred murmured to himself, pulling back the shower curtain to retrieve the towel he had placed on the bar beside the stall, only to find nothing.
His towel was gone, along with all the clothing he had with him in the bathroom. This almost had hims fuming enough thaw, but not quite. He had nothing to hide his private areas, let along dry off with. Gred glanced around and stopped his gaze on the towel pantry, when he ventured to it, it was unfortunately empty. This is definitely not Ron's work, Gred thought to himself thinking of only one other sibling who would be able to pull such a prank. Once more he looked around, and was left with only one option, toilet paper.
Reaching for the roll, Gred wadded some of the thin paper in his hand and wiped off the suds from his torso and elsewhere, then he began to cover his mid-section with the toilet paper as if he were wrapping a mummy. is deet stepped across the cool tiled floor as he made way to the door to peek around the corners of the walls. The coast was clear and he hoped that he would be home free to his room, that was until he bumped into someone on the way.
"It's not a good habit to run around the house with only mere toiletries covering your units brother," Forge stifled his snickers with a self-satisfying smirk.
Gred inhaled deeply and turned to face his twin brother, who stood behind him, "Perhaps it is you who shouldn't make a habit out of ruining people's showers."
"I thought that it was rather enjoyable, though i am disappointed with the lack of screaming. Oh well, less time to make up excusing to Mum," his grin was still fully ripened, and looked as if it had no intentions on dissipating.
"With all the people in the house Forge, why is it that I was this morning's lab rat?" Gred questioned, trying to avoid looking his brother in the eyes, in fear of not seeing what he wanted.
"Well if you must know, I spin a wheel when I arise and whomever it lands on gets the wrath of me. Luckily for you dear Gred, your portion of the circle is smaller compared to the other's," he chuckled lightly under his breath, "It seems you've been tortured enough for the morning, and also your loin cloth is ripping."
As he said that, Gred rushed into his room as fast as he possibly could. He rid himself of the temporary covering and walked over to his mirror completely nude. Gred wanted to examine himself, every single part. Curiosity made him look for differences between he and his brother. Lately Gred had been wondering why they appeared somewhat different from each other than usual. No matter how identical they were supposed to be, Gred always saw something in himself than was missing in his other half.
The shared the same amount of freckles that were randomly scattered along their bodies. Equal amounts of hair grew from the pores of their skin. Daily they were confused for the other, nobody could tell them apart. Countless times Gred tried to press this into his mind, but it still tugged his thoughts, annoying him until he found the answer.
Suddenly it hit him, not in his mind, but the blow went straight to his heart.
Their eyes.
It wasn't the color or shape that separated the two pairs, but what was held behind them. The emotions that lay beyond the hazel-blue irises and ebony pupils were nothing alike. Only then did Gred realize why he never could look his brother in the eyes. It was because he didn't feel the same.
Having this new realization in imprinted in his mind, Gred stepped to his closet and pulled out one of his initialed sweaters. It wasn't until he was fully clothed that he looked to see what the initial on his chest actually was, a B. Ron's not the only one who can complain about hand-me-downs, he shrugged nonchalantly and started for the kitchen.
On his way down the stairs Gred saw a flash of red and a sparkle of blue, and for a minute his heart lurched up into his throat. For once in his entire 18 years of living, Gred saw his emotions in his brother's eyes. Time stood still for that second, as twins locked gazes, but time can only stand for so long, and before he knew it, Gred saw his mother come out from behind Forge.
"Be a dear and help your mother out with this will you?" Mrs. Weasley beckoned her son.
Gred snapped out of his trance, and focused his eyes. Fingers alongside a mahogany framing were visible, brought with utter confusion. Once again his heart was hit.
"Please, Fre-George, err . . Son," his mother nearly pleaded.
Damn, it's just my reflection.
Fin.