Yin blinks. But as soon as she realizes what she's doing she shuts her eyes as swiftly as she opened them.
A week. It had been, more or otherwise, roughly a week since she felt that uncomfortable churning in her stomach.
She had shrugged it off after a while. The disappointment may had caught her off guard, and it may had been-and it still is-somewhat unsettling, it was still only just out of the blue. And if she couldn't find a reason for it, she would rather not think about it. It wasn't anything like the distressful sense of foreboding, and it was something so easily discarded.
The churning came back though, but it was different this time.
It was night, late at night, and there was something wrong in the air. She woke up, and, now, she regretted doing so. She was just thankful the other hadn't noticed. She didn't want confrontation, she didn't really want to know, and maybe it would be easier this way. She could ignore it, or at the least, ignore most of it.
She heard the scraping of her-or maybe not-chair and she willed herself not to flinch or tense. She wished, for once, to not be so keen, because she could almost feel the warmth going to her. The churning grew worse with dread.
The warmth is as close as ever and she hopes the other occupant doesn't notice her fur bristled and standing up. Her body shivers slightly (which the other shrugs as a subconscious reaction to the cold) and she tries even harder to appear asleep, but then she suddenly stiffens.
This time, the warmth really is on her skin and she can tell the touch is hesitant, nervous, and, if she wasn't so scared, she would have slapped it away. The hand flutters on her fur, telling her how wary and reluctant the invader was to do be doing this. She realizes that this might be the first time he's done this, she's not sure if she's relieved of this fact or not.
And then he leaves, but she holds her breath until it is exactly five seconds since the door shuts close. She covers her eyes with her arm and shudders.
It had always been so easy to read her twin, he had always been the obnoxious, over-confident and sometimes sweet and overprotective brother. She could read every action and every response, and could very well predict what they would be. And this...wasn't in the mix.
She bit her tongue. Yang's actions had been a stretch from his rare affectionate side. Far too big of a stretch.
She wasn't trying to assume, she wasn't going to try assuming, but it (bloody, damn, hell) bothered her.
Well, lookie here, I decided to continue this story! :3 Since people liked this, and one even said that maybe I should continue this. Of course, plot bunnies love me. They love me so much they just HAVE to come in by packs.
I have to tell you though, I'm gonna be slow on this. I already have a sort of plan on what will happen in each chapter and I'm sure I can write it fast enough. Can't though. School ya know, that and I'm so very easily distracted. Hope you liked this chapter though ;) Sorry if I disappoint, I'll try better on the next one.