It does not matter that we're identical. Identical is only skin-deep.
Outside: pale, soft skin, deft fingers, stocky stature and a slight rush of permanent blush – freckles. Same fiery red hair, same bright blue eyes, and an ever-present smirk. We use it to our advantage, there's no doubt about that…but it gets a little unnerving at times, to see how little people pay attention to our insides. If they could just get past the word 'identical,' maybe they could tell us apart.
Inside: I'm the oldest (by a stretch of thirteen minutes) and therefore, I have always been the more take-charge twin. George knows that…I think he likes it that way. For all my dominance however, there comes a price: I act on my impulses far too quickly. It is true that when George reminds me to scale down for a moment on a plan, it can be depressing, but only until I realize that he is right. It's times like those I need to thank him most for being able to keep everything in check. To keep me in check.
He's more mellow than me, but what he lacks in a fuse, he makes up for with the bang. It takes more to anger him, yes, but once you've succeeded, it is absolutely unrivaled. Not even our mother can scare me like an angry George.
As it is however, I love him to death, and I try not to push the line too far.
Sometimes, considering it keeps people from knowing us inside; keeps our love a secret, I don't mind being identical. Besides, together, we make something quite different. Something completely unequaled by the rest of our peers. We're not just a pair of twins: together, we make a whole. I'd like to keep it that way.