It's that time of year, but what did Lyle and Neil do for Christmas when they were younger? I have no idea but I'd hope it would be something like this (hehe)
this is a oneshot but might add another chapter that is also a oneshot. Happy xmas everyone!
Disclaimer: don't own it or its characters
Christmas Memories
It was their 11th year, and already time for white snow to line the windowsills. From the kitchen a small radio played a string of familiar christmas carols and delicious smells filled the house.
The twins had hardly slept the night before (of course) but were still up at sparrows, pouncing on their parents to wake them, excited over the colourful pile of presents under the christmas tree. They reluctantly received multiple kisses from their mother before running to their younger sister, barely able to contain themselves.
It was a tradition in their family to sit on the well-worn couches around the christmas tree and open all the presents before breakfast. This year was no different; there were the small gifts from aunties and uncles, long letters from grandparents, money sent in cards. But the present that snagged their attention most, was the big round one from their parents.
They had a pretty good idea of what it was.
From the television and word of mouth, they'd heard all about them and since been itching to get one. So when Neil dug his small hands mercilessly into the wrapping paper and ripped straight through, a smile instantly shot to their faces. They ran up hug their parents 'thankyou', who were seretly sighing in relief at the boys' approval.
...Seems like this year, getting a dartboard was a good choice.
Following a hurried breakfast of scrambled eggs and milk, the twins dragged their father outside to set up the board (their mother yelling from inside to put their coats on or they'll catch a cold). It looked brilliant, with its colours of red, green, black and white against the dark-brick wall.
After demonstrating the first throw, their father went on to tell them that darts are dangerous, fast and very sharp (at which the boys smirked at each other mischievously) and to not point them anywhere except at the dart-board. Amy was not allowed to play either.
A white chalk line was marked on the concrete, a good four metres back and their father motioned for the twins to have a go, Lyle first.
The younger boy grinned widely at his brother as he picked up a dart, going about acting professional. Shining the sharp tip with his fingers, examining it for flaws, then rolling his sleeves up for effect, Lyle placed one foot exactly to the line, left arm behind his back, and one eye screwed shut. With a steady hand and perfect balance, he drew his arm back then threw it towards the board with just enough force, releasing the dart with exactly the right timing.
Then the green-eyed boy stood back, one hand on his hip, the other coming up to brush the underside of his chin, in a gesture that spoke of a cinch.
The small red dart, now embedded in the board, had landed mere millimetres from the bullseye.
Their father, with his eyebrow's raised high in surprise, went up to his son and whacked him on the back.
"Why, that's gotta be the best bit o' beginners luck I've seen in a long time right there, Lyle boy."
And Lyle just huffed, smug smile on his face then rounded in on his twin, a challenge evident in his eyes.
Neil didn't hesitate to pick up a dull green dart, mimicking his younger brother and poised behind the line to throw. However in the last moment, Neil swiftly switched the dart from his dominant hand to his left hand and expertly projected it towards the board with a backward spin. The green dart buried itself right next to Lyle's red dart; a perfect bullseye.
Lyle narrowed his eyes, a pang of jealousy evident on his face, but also a hint of pride; expecting no less from his older brother. Neil poked his tongue at Lyle, strutted up to him and offered a high-five to which the younger boy happily returned.
It took but a moment of exchange and a quick glance in each other's eyes for the twins to turn, together, identical grins plastered on their faces, and shoot the challenge this time at their gob-smacked father.
At that moment their mother walked out with Amy in one hand and a steaming coffee in the other, inquiring as to how the dart throwing was fairing, to which their father shook his head, astonished.
"Their beyond me, those boys of ours..."
They looked back at the twins. Lyle was already drawing another chalk line, this time nearly ten meters from the board and chatting playfully to his brother.
"We are locking on to the target, Captian!"
Neil adjusted the darts angle with one eye closed and a grin on his face.
"Roger that, aim and fire!"
~END