of half-bloods and happenings

to share

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Pollux is late for his brother's funeral. The grime of war still clings to him like a second skin, and does nothing to stop the pain from piercing every beat of his heart. There's no room to breathe here, and the thick, cloying smell of death lingers even amongst the living.

He feels weak at the knees as he watches the flames devour his brother's body, licking hungrily up and down the purple shroud, up and down Castor's immobile limbs, lank hair, glassy eyes. He wants to jump on the pyre and laugh as the fire takes his life as well -

But there are some things even twins cannot share.

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Author's Note: Hallo, all! Returned from holidaying in Deutschland! Will not be updating as frequently (schoolschoolschoolschool) but ONE HUNDREDTH reviewer - I still cannot believe it - will get their one-shot as promised. It just might take a while. (:

Oh, and something else. I have fallen utterly in love with Game of f-ing Thrones, so any stories I post here from now on will almost certainly be in that category. Love you all. xx