Chapter 4
Thursday passed by like a blur. Evie went to class per usual, except she wasn't actually there. Sure, her body occupied her respective seat in her classes, but she scribbled nonsense in her notebooks instead of notes, drowned out her professors' lectures with her own distracting daydreams, and spent a majority of time gazing up at the clock, her pencil tapping impatiently on her desk.
She simply could not focus – or more accurately put – she could not focus on anything other than Jacob's impending party. It was a test, and like any other test, Evie was committed to success.
When Friday finally arrived, Evie could be found cooped up inside her dorm room, presenting herself in front of her mirror while she fiddled with her appearance.
'Fun, Evie. Think fun.' She berated herself after weaving her hair into its common style: a frustrating force of habit. Quickly, she redid the twists, twining the braids with more elaborate flair on top of her head. Eyeing her reflection for flaws, she thumbed the unpigmented blouse she had chosen for the night: a simple yet elegant garment that sported playful frills and exposed her bare shoulders. Her skinny jeans clung to her waist, courageously pointing out every alluring curve and dip the Frye twin's lower portion had to offer. To top off her look, she had added earrings to her ears and a choker to her throat.
She turned this way and that, examining how the outfit aligned with different poses. All in all, she supposed she looked fair.
Outside, the University's clock struck ten.
It was time to move.
Evie strode towards the door, hiked on her thigh-high boots, and disappeared into the night.
The Courtyard was packed with guests; it seemed the entire student body had shown up for the rowdy celebration. Like moths drawn to a flame, they clustered around the dance floor, their bodies gliding in unison in an organized dance. Colored lanterns were strewn across the lawn, bathing the leafy terrain in an exciting spectrum of hues.
And of course there was ale, and plenty of it. Fastened like a glove to every visitant's hand, it was constantly being poured into empty mugs, tossed down countless throats, and – if its holder was tipsy enough – accidentally sloshed onto another drunkard's attire.
Evie sat cross-legged at one of the tables with a mug of ale cradled in her own hands. Her cheeks burned pink with intoxication as she watched the sea of scholars twirl stylishly across the Courtyard. Perhaps she had splurged a bit on the alcohol; the world did seem to have a funny tilt to it, but that hadn't discouraged her from hitting the dance floor whenever a gentleman beckoned for a jig. Grinning madly to herself, she took another small sip from her tankard. As impossible as she had initially thought, she was actually enjoying herself.
Laughter from the crowd bombarded her ears, followed by the sweet flow of music from the band playing live on stage: "The Colossal Trio," if Evie remembered correctly. They had just completed their latest number, which brought forth dazzled applause from both Evie Frye and the joyous crowd. Lifting brass instruments to their lips and drumsticks to their hands, the Trio began their next tune, and Evie froze with her mug's brim to her lips.
She knew this song.
Thumping bass flooded the perimeter, shaking the very earth beneath Evie's feet. Jazzy notes folded around her. Possessed her. Before she knew it, she was compelled out of her seat and into the swaying tides of people. Her hips moved of their own accord, matching the song tit-for-tat. Her hands followed suit, climbing overhead to surf the air.
Trumpets roared. The drums thumped off a staccato rhythm. This song. 'Why is it so familiar?' Evie brooded as she racked her befuddled brain. Surely the answer was in there somewhere; she just couldn't quite reach it.
Her train of thought skidded off its tracks, however, when a strong set of fingers meshed with her own and shepherded her body into a quick twirl exactly on cue with the funky tempo. From the thrilling buzz from her fingertips, she already had an inkling of who the stranger might be. One glance up his arm revealed her suspicions as true: Jacob Frye stood staring back at her, utterly dumbfounded, as if he couldn't believe that the young woman dancing so tantalizingly on the floor could be his sister.
For Jacob was under the same spell as his twin. Spellbound, he had been led to the jiving sea, his eyes drawn to one woman in particular whose body shimmied on the same wavelength as his own. He reached for her hand without a moment's thought, and was struck dumb once familiar blue eyes turned his way.
His mind barely registered her flashy clothing or the fact that jewels sparkled from around her throat and ears – although the accessories came as a pleasant surprise, seeing as though Jacob merely shrugged on a leather jacket over his usual wear – instead his attention centered on the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins, the connection of their hands as they tied together, had always belonged tied to one another.
But then the music was controlling him again, and his hand situated itself against her waist, leading her into a volley of breath-snatching spins.
It had been raining that night. Father had left her in charge, stating that he had an urgent lead to follow-up on. Evie had jumped at the chance despite the possibility of her brother attempting to wreak havoc in Father's absence. Surprisingly, the little gremlin was compliant – sitting quietly beside his older twin on the couch as she gazed at the dancing figures moving fanatically across the television. It was some sort of old-timey movie: a musical, she could remember that much. In their living room, the hours bled away, and Evie was amazed that Jacob had managed to sit still as long as he had.
But all good things must come to an end.
With an exaggerated sigh, Jacob leapt from the couch and tapped the television, one index finger pointing out one of the flailing actors. "I bet I can dance better than him," he stated with a smirk. Evie snorted, skeptical. "Of course you can Jacob," With an unsubtle roll of eyes, she turned her attention back to the black and white film. Her sarcasm was of no deterrent to the younger Frye though, and from her peripherals, she watched him jive across the living room in a whirl of motion. She couldn't help but be slightly impressed – fascinated, even – with his accuracy. Every shift of his feet aligned almost perfectly with the music coursing from the television's speakers. It seemed Jacob had been paying attention to the dance classes Ethan Frye had insisted they study. But this was nothing like the methodical waltz that had been drilled into their heads.
This was the swing! Sporadic and zesty. Fun and carefree.
The floorboards echoed with Jacob's quick footwork – his movement erratic, excitable. She felt her pulse quicken up until the very end of her brother's dance.
Evie was impressed, but she knew better than to show it – it would only go to his head; his ego was big enough already. Instead, she gave another roll of the eyes.
"As if you can do any better…" Jacob grumbled, tying arms over his chest as he eyed his sister critically. It was challenge, and they both knew it. She had raised a questioning brow, and he knew he had her. Evie slipped off the couch, and his hand had immediately clasped her own. Evie could feel her heart rate picking up again, the hairs lining her porcelain skin stood at attention, her breath came in quick narrow puffs, her blood sang – all of this she had attributed to one thing and one thing only: simply her eager desire to outperform her brother. And suddenly, they were in motion, setting fire to the living room floor.
The song playing now was the song playing then. That was nearly 10 years ago, and yet, the past threatened to repeat itself. Just like before, Evie could sense the invisible strings lacing her and her twin together. Their feet stomped lightning, they glided across the field as though it were composed of ice. Laughter poured from her lips. With every twirl, every spin, worries she hadn't realized she had harboring, melted away – Henry, the SGA situation, even Lucy – became an infinitesimal speck in the gorgeous world that was Evie and Jacob Frye.
Rejuvenated.
Free.
Buoyant.
She was flying, and he was her wings. She couldn't remember ever feeling this alive as he swung her this way and that, both their bodies swaying to the rhythm.
Evie glanced up to see that Jacob was grinning down at her, as jovial as she. Oh, how she had missed this connection, she'd missed the way they moved in effortless sync, their movements entirely instinctual. She'd missed this closeness with Jacob - his smug grin and the familiar scars characteristic to his face. And she especially missed the fun: the carefree, wild, spontaneous flutter in her chest she could only get from her brother: her other half, her twin.
Jacob spun with her cradled in his arms, and then the music halted as it reached its end. Much too soon for Evie Frye. But they were close now. Breathing the same air. And those lips were before her again, shaped as they were in a thrilled grin. She was close enough to reach them now…touch them…kiss them. It should have frightened her to think such things, but it didn't.
The sound of applause broke her trance, and gradually, the world fell back into place: drunken guests cheering their names (she hadn't even noticed that they had backed off to form a courteous circle around them), the festive Courtyard, the Trio bowing to the audience, the unmistakable scent of ale permeating the air. It all came back to her, along with other observations: her hands wreathed around Jacob's neck – his hands snug around her waist and tucked firmly between her shoulder blades, the beads of sweat that sped down his skin, his labored breathing; her heart was in her ears, her breath an uncatchable vapor.
All she wanted to say – needed to say – sat on the edge of her lips. She missed him…terribly. Why couldn't she just say that? Staring up in his large brown eyes, Evie found herself speechless. And then the opportunity was lost.
Her attention was grabbed elsewhere as a collective gasp from the crowd had her turning away from Jacob and towards the skies in time to see sprites of color arcing into the air before exploding into a giant splash of vibrant hues among the stars.
Fireworks.
She loved fireworks. Ever since her father had surprised her with the combustible wonder on their eighth birthday, she had fell hopelessly in love. Sky flowers: her special label for the works of art. Awestruck, Evie's eyes remained glued to the colorful parade claiming the night sky. Jacob's lips against the shell of her ear startled her. "I know that you refused my offer for fire," She could feel his warm mouth stretching into a sly grin against her sensitive skin, "but you said nothing about fireworks." She bit her lip as an involuntary shiver claimed her spine.
Overhead, the fireworks continued to burst, filling the air with pigment and gunfire.
He didn't remember how he had managed to make it back to his dorm. The last thing he could properly recall was his personal surprise for Evie: a special "thanks for allowing me to throw a party Eves!"
Fireworks. She had loved it…as he knew she would. He had reveled in pride when her eyes shone with amazement and awe. He just hoped that she saw his point: fire was the highlight of any party. Oh, and there was the ale! He had consumed plenty of it, if his staggering walk was anything to go by. The world wobbled in his vision as he stopped in front of his door, one hand clutching the door frame the only thing keeping him from collapsing on the floor.
Despite his heavy intoxication, the party had been an ultimate success. Leave it up to Jacob Frye to pull off one of the most extraordinary parties in all of Whitechapel University! And Evie, god, she had actually danced – really danced! He had never seen her move that way. It was a shock – a good shock. Grinning to himself, the masculine twin turned on clumsy feet and began stumbling back the way he had come; the night wasn't over. Not yet…
Jacob wasn't entirely sure how he would manage to pick the lock on Evie's door in his current state. However, his alcohol-soaked brain reassured him that he would discover some miracle or another in getting in. After all, he was Jacob Frye: master party-planner! Not to mention that his objective was simple: infiltrate his sister's room, read a couple of pages from her sappy diary, get a few good laughs, and then it would be off to bed. A perfect end to a perfect day.
Or so he thought…Later, when his mind was cleared of its drunken fog, he would look back and realize all of the blaring warning signs that he had so foolishly ignored the night before. Warning number one: Evie's dorm door. Kneeling in front of her door, lock-picking utensils at the ready, he was mildly astonished to see that the knob turned easily without resistance. 'Strange, Evie always locks her door…'
Shrugging the thought away nonchalantly, he proceeded to enter her room. For the briefest of seconds, he marveled at how organized it was compared to his own. But that was Evie, always so cool and collected. The interior was dark. The lights had been shut off, meaning that Evie had most likely turned in for the night. It would definitely make getting to her diary much easier. His footfalls sounded overly noisy in his ears as he crossed the short space between the dorm's door and Evie's room.
Warning number two: Evie's room door. As before, Jacob kneeled before the door and checked the knob. 'Damn,' he muttered a curse to himself as the knob refused to budge. Locked. He really hated locks. Retrieving his tools from his pocket, he plugged them into the lock mechanism. But then his knees accidentally bumped against the entrance, and Jacob realized that the door hadn't actually been locked at all.
Yes, the lock had been turned on the knob, but the door had never been closed. It swung forward a few inches, granting the younger twin a modest view into his sister's room. His eyes had finally adjusted to the shadows and they whirled about in the darkness, searching for the familiar shape of his twin. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to witness…
It took minutes for his intoxicated mind to make sense of what he was seeing. Bedsheets - they had been flung off her form as though she had been in a rush, one of her hands clutched onto the fabric as though for dear life as her body quivered against the bare mattress. Skin – flushed with crimson color and drenched with sweat…A stunned gasp was pulled from his throat as his gaze fell on exposed breasts, pink nipples fully erect and glistening with her perspiration. She was lying on her back, naked, he realized – well, mostly nude, excluding the tiny panties that dangled helplessly from one her ankles. And her hand worked furiously at the lewd space between her legs. Fascinated, Jacob watched as her slippery fingers worked in and out of her puny hole, her juices glittering like forbidden treasure as they raced down her creamy thighs.
"M-Mm…oh god~" Evie's whimpers floated to his ears. He wanted to clamp his hands over them. Shut out the alluring moans from her plush lips, which now circulated like music in his head. He knew he should look away, should dash out of there as fast as his uncoordinated legs would allow, but he couldn't…he didn't want to. His sister was touching herself, and he was watching…and he simply did not care whether it was right or not.
Her moans intensified. She arched her back, her dainty digits now stroking her swollen bead, her legs parted and quivering with pleasure.
"Fuck…" Jacob muttered as pulled away from the door, his blood whooshing in his ears, his hands shaking. Biting his bottom lip, he dropped his gaze to acknowledge the newfound erection forming a sizable tent within his pants, which seemed to have shrunk down several sizes around his crotch. It trapped his member in a denim prison, suffocated it, as his masculine sex shoved its tip boldly against the jean's metallic zipper, desperate for release.
Evie gasped sharply as her fingers ran over her sensitive clit, sending sparks of pleasure sizzling through her veins. 'Jacob, Jacob is here ~' She couldn't see him, but she could feel him. Just behind her door. Just a few steps out of reach. And he was watching her…
'Jacob is watching me ~' One of her hands clutched her plump breast, tugging its fleshy end until she squeaked with joy.
'I wonder, does this please you Jacob?' Heavy pants fled from her mouth. Her mattress creaked in protest as her hips rocked in untamed rhythm, propelling her fingers even deeper to her aching core. 'Does it please you to see me?'
Whimpering, she lifted herself upright, gluing her eyes to her ajar door, right where she knew her brother crouched, spectating her every obscene move. It excited her to be seen, it set fire to her skin and an unbearable twinge in her abdomen. 'Please…please look at me Jacob~! Don't stop looking at me!' With a seductive purr rattling her vocals, she set her upper limbs to work. Both hands seized her dripping feminine sex, one roughly stroking her clitoris while the other filled her narrow tunnel with as much fingers as she could manage. "Y-Yes! Oh Jacob~! More!"
Jacob had to bite his lip to keep his heated moans at bay. "God Evie..." His jeans were unbuckled, hung at his ankles, his excited cock snug between his digits. Ragged gasps were breathed against the doorframe as his back curved into a pleasured arch, his hand pumping wildly along his twitching rod which readily spilled pre-cum over his fist. He didn't dare tear his eyes away from the door, he was breathing so hard, he was sure Evie would hear.
As though she had, in fact, heard him breathing, she shot upright and stared right at the door. Right at him.
Their eyes locked.
Jacob froze, his fingers squeezing his length's tip. She knew he was there…She knew! Suddenly feeling like a child caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar, Jacob began a hasty retreat, shame reddening his cheeks. Realization slapped his face like a splash of icy water: the doors, unlocked and inviting…she had meant for him to find her, had known he would come, she had wanted to be seen…
His lungs burned from lack of oxygen, he hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath. Inhaling sharply, Jacob returned to the door and met her gaze once again. She had let her hair down, and the ripples of her dark locks fanned across the bedsheets in lush waves. A rosy flush surfed over her freckles, and dominated her cheeks. Her full lips slid apart, erupting with sensuous moans. But her eyes…It was her eyes that seized his soul. It was the same eyes he had been looking into for most of his life, and at the same time, a completely different set of his eyes altogether. Bright, sharp, and a startlingly deep shade of blue…that was familiar. But the needy clouds obscuring them wasn't.
Those eyes. He'd never forget them. They burned themselves into his memory. Even when he closed his eyes, he could see them.
Pupils the size of saucers. Drunk with lust, they smoldered with desperate desire for satisfaction, desire for pleasure. They hungered for him. And then his name was on her lips. She whispered it - pleaded it - cried it! 'I-I can't hold it – I'm going to –!' His spine swooped into a powerful bend as the earth shattered into shards of bliss. Frantic energy surged through his throbbing manhood, bursting forth against the doorframe and his hands in thick ropes of hot white fluid and leaving him heaving for breath.
His body convulsed, shuddered. His face jammed against the door, his sights still focused on his twin. Inevitably, she had reached the same mind-blowing climax as he had. Her spent form lay sprawled along her mattress, long limbs unfurled on either side of her body, fingers coated with her own fluid, the rest of her skin perfumed with her sweat, her legs remained divided, the sheets soaked underneath from her orgasm, her breasts were shapely mounds on her chest, their reddened peaks still ascending to the heavens.
She still peered his way, and her mouth curved into a salacious smile. "Oh Jacob~" she cooed, her hands skimming over her nipples, her body still riding the waves of euphoria. She continued murmuring his name, over and over, until a restful slumber finally settled over her, and she ensconced herself into the comfortable void.
Jacob, on the other hand, sucked in a shaky breath. Sleep was the farthest thing from his mind. The awareness of what had truly occurred between him – and his bloody sister! – finally catching up with his consciousness. 'Shit!' He glanced down his hand. Wet and sticky with his cum. 'Shit shit shit!' Hastily, he wiped the mess on his shirt, vowing to thoroughly sanitize it later. His eyes then fell against the door, which had also been soiled with the residue of their sin. With a quaking arm, he mopped up the drying fluid as fast as he could manage and leapt to his feet.
For the briefest of seconds, the world twirled on a carousel. He fell against the wall, bracing himself until his vision righted itself. He had to get out of there – now! Pulling himself together, he took a hurried step towards the front door, only to nearly face-plant into the floor from the jeans hugging his ankles. An image of tiny panties hanging from one of Evie's ankles popped into his head. 'Don't you even think about it, you bloody pervert!' he harshly chided himself before forcing the thought out of his mind. It had been less than an hour and his mind already wanted to reminiscence. Muttering strings of curses to himself, he hoisted up his jeans and scrambled for the exit, the door slamming shut in his wake.
A/N: I apologize that it took me like three years to post a new chapter for this story. I've been caught up in a lot of crap lately: school work, working for a living, relationship crap...y'know the works. But anywho! Read. Reflect. And Comment! Tell me what you like. What you don't like. What you think I could do better, etc! I would love to hear from you guys! Keep reading and writing! Next chapter won't take a millennia...hopefully.
