Since the two had arrived at her house, Lifty dozing on her couch, lulled by the steady pitter patter of the drizzle of rain that had been forecasted, and Flaky going to do homework in the kitchen, he hadn't let a peep about his brother out. He wouldn't worry Flaky about his family problems, she seemed to be having her own struggle against math. For all the redhead was worth, she wasn't very good when it came to numbers.

He had tried helping her, being good with his digits, but each attempt had failed miserably, so he had left her to figure it out. Hey, he had tried and that was more than he was used to.

Falling in and out of a sleeping stage, Lifty sat up and stared at the bumps of dried paint on the ceiling. The voice of his brother was echoing through his head, twisting into taunts and mocking him.

He turned his head and peered over his shoulder, subconsciously imagining that his brother was whispering into his other open ear. The whispers were quiet and too quick to catch at first, but they gradually became louder, the figment of a thief drawing out the words with every syllable.

"Lifty," Shifty's tone was snide, "what are you still doing here~? Just ditch her and get your ass back to the house, bro."

Lifty waved a hand behind him, disturbed that he was feeling guilty enough to be imagining his twin. That couldn't have been right. "Buzz off." And now he was speaking to the mirage, he did need to stop taking Flaky's special sweets before he napped.

"I telling you, she's gonna betray you one day, then who are you gonna be whining to? I'm your only family, so just come home, you little prick~"

Go back home and be treated like nothing more than a doormat or a pack mule? Be given none of the credit when a heist went correct for once but be blamed for every failure? And have to deal with Shifty's 'give me everything you own' attitude? No, there wasn't a possibility that he would even consider going back to that hell hole. If he did, it would be over his dead body. His brother would have to drag his cold corpse there because he wasn't going to come of his own accord.

"Leave me alone, I'm going back to sleep." The pillow he dropped on his face was smacked to the ground, Shifty grinning at his annoyance.

"Come on Lifty, you really think you're gonna stay here all your life? Like hell you aren't, and Flaky's already telling someone about it right now."

Lifty glowered and turned onto his side, face buried into the musky scent of the couch; he was ignoring and trying to pull back the figment into his mind where it belonged. It was more agitating than his real twin, and it had been out only two minutes. The time away from his sibling must have had an effect on his thoughts about him, or could he really be this persistent. Persistent enough to lean forward, pluck a hair harshly from his scalp, and throw it to the ground, whispering to get up.

"If you just went to the kitchen, you'd overhear her talking about you," sang Shifty, smiling pleasantly as Lifty turned back.

"Will you get out of here if I do?" He must have been mad, making a deal with an imagined version of Shifty couldn't be normal, but then again he was tired of bickering and having his presence. If selling his soul to the devil did the trick and got rid of the sneering mirage, then he would gladly do it.

"I promise, but remember what I said about keeping a sharp ear~"

Getting up and off the couch, Lifty shook his head, glad that the obnoxious voice had gone. Keep a sharp ear, why not just say listen closely. He lowered the volume of his usually heavy steps as he neared the door leading into the kitchen, pressing up against the wall and grabbing the door frame.

Shifty had wanted him to hear whatever Flaky was talking about, but from what he had already picked up she was only complaining about how hard the assignment was. Leave it to his thought up brother to still be an asshole and cause him to get up for nothing. He had been working on a body shaped groove in the cushions, and now he would need to start over.

Though, he was drawn to what she was saying, listening to her confounded voice as she spoke to a friend through the phone. A girl whose name he knew well, egh.

"Lammy, I just don't understand a-any of this!" Flaky sighed out and pointed to the page. "Since when has t-there been letters in math?!" Lammy answered by saying since they had hit algebra in eighth grade, that was, if the teaching in the town was the same as her old school. "W-why do we need this in life though? I'm not going to be a rocket scientist . ."

"Who is?" Lammy asked, both pausing and answering simultaneously.

"Sniffles."

"But I'm not Sniffles," Flaky cried and laid her head on cool book pages. "I-I know he offered to tutor me . . but I didn't want to be a burden . . And n-now, I wish I had said yes."

"You just need to take a break from homework, I did. And I haven't had homework for the past week~ it's called giving it to someone smarter to finish!"

"Oh yeah? W-who did you give your homework to?"

"Mr. Pickles, duh! He says he likes helping me, and he's really good at math so I thought why not let him finish it! It's given me free time to work on my cheer and just have time to myself, I think you could use that time too. Want me to come over and see what I can help you with?"

It would be nice to have the extra help, failing pre-calculus this year wasn't her priority, but frankly she was concerned about what would occur if her two friends were in the same room again. They could either clash like swords where one of them could come out supreme. It didn't matter if Lammy was a female, she had the strength of the next boy and could rule over Lifty if she put her entire might and desire into it.

"N-no, I think I might be getting this actually." Why, oh why, did she sign up for one of the hardest classes she could possibly ever take? It hadn't been the smartest decision on her part, and now she paid the price for it by getting a barely passing grade. "You don't have to come over, besides, I-I have Lifty to help me with this. He's actually good at math when he actually focuses with me, I think I might understand it if I asked again."

Lifty smirked and considered her compliment as her bragging to the Frenchie about him. He listened to them for another nearly ten more minutes before he believed that he was just being paranoid. Paranoid enough to think his imaginary brother was even remotely right about Flaky; it was just him over thinking what Shifty could do. He wouldn't pull anything, he had just said the lie to make the younger twin fret over it.

About to leave his discreet hiding spot, Flaky's conversation stopped suddenly. He peeked in and saw her listening intently to the other line. Her lips were pressed tightly, worry lines burying into her forehead, and she was tapping her chin with the pencil tip. That couldn't be good, so he hung back to listen more.

Lifty cleaned his ears, straining them to hear what her lower than average voice said, ". . . I'm not sure if I can do t-this, Lammy. I really don't think I can."

What is she talking about? he wondered. What can't she do?

"I-I know I'll feel just dreadful when I tell him that I can't do this anymore, but I k-know he'll understand. It's just . . . whenever I'm around him, I don't feel l-like I'm safe."

He listened tentatively, ignoring the storm of butterflies that had erupted in the depths of his stomach. She doesn't feel safe around, around who? I bet she's talking about army boy, he looks kinda dangerous, if it wasn't for the luvy dovey face he has all the time.

"I keep imagining t-that he'll hurt me if I go near him, I know it's silly, but I'm scared. I don't think I can let him in my house anymore when I don't know what he'll do to me . . . Uh-huh, and h-he's also mean," she whispered, biting her lip and idly tracing a ring her cup had left on the math book. "I don't know how to deal with m-meanness, or when he snaps at me."

Snapping, mean, and the feeling of being unsafe around this person. With each added description, Lifty was sinking further down the wall and staring wide eyed at the wall. She was saying that she was going to throw him out, Shifty had been right, and she hadn't even had the nerve to tell him yet!

"I thought . . . at first . . . that he would be as nice as Flippy, b-but then after the first day—I just can't deal with this Lammy. I think I'll tell him later tonight that this can't happen anymore," Flaky decided, sounding pleased and a bit frightened.

No, G-d no. I—fuck. He couldn't think of anything better, feeling conflicted in his emotions. Before, he hadn't thought he had emotions, and if he did they were locked in a vault that he had long since lost the key to. But when the sweet redhead had come into the picture, she had begun messing with the lock that kept it sealed tight and eventually slipped past his defenses.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Idiot! Lifty thumped himself for letting it happen. I'm such a dumbass, Shifty would laugh at me if he was hearing this.

But instead of feeling saddened, he felt the onrushing anger at another betrayal fill him. It was stronger than the panic at the fairgrounds and left a bitterness in his thoughts. Frustration at being unable to detect what move the short female would pull next—he usually could predict what his opponents future moves were, but with Flaky it was like he couldn't get a reading from her—welled inside him like an overfilled cup.

It couldn't have been a coincidence that on the day Shifty met with him Flaky wanted to discard of the thief, they were in cahoots no doubt. From the beginning this had just been a tradeoff and the redhead had used him until she got tired. A child who tired of the new toy they had desperately wanted only after a few days, learning that it wasn't as fantastic as they thought it would be. No it couldn't be, but yes it could be. It was all so confusing . . . but Flaky could always clarify, Lifty realizing that she was saying goodbye.

"Yeah," Flaky murmured, "I'm going to have to tell Flippy t-that he needs another dogsitter, Pitch is just a too scary of a bulldog. O-okay, bye Lammy, t-talk to you later!"

She hung up and almost went back to her work, but feeling the sensation of the hairs on her neck standing as someone stared at her she stopped. In her peripheral vision she saw her guest's tall form leaning in the doorway. He was scowling darkly, a put off sign that she didn't pick up.

"Oh," Flaky rotated her body, "y-you're awake from your nap! Sorry dinner isn't ready yet, I kind of got pulled away from time, h-heh. But if you're hungry right now I could make you a s-snack to hold you a while long—"

Lifty pushed away from the doorway, growing a bitter smile, and put a gloved hand on her math book. His emerald eyes were hardened as he raised a finger to her lips, shushing her. With her no longer speaking, Flaky's scarlet eyes taken aback and a light tint of pink lining her cheeks, he took over the conversation.

"What were you just talking about right now," he asked solemnly. He hadn't wanted to jump to conclusions, but how she had sounded so secretive and back stabbing had brought him to it. "I inadvertently overheard you and I'm just curious~ what were you talking about."

Flaky's face deepened in color as he moved his hand to run through her hair. His dark eyes were enticing her to tell him what he needed to know, and the persuasion in his voice was moving. She didn't know what had brought this upon him, her cheeks flaring as he continued his minor touching, and she briefly wondered if it was a sort of stress reliever for him. He did seem to enjoy messing with and putting her in uncomfortable situations when he wanted something.

"U-um," she cupped her hand over his and gently pulled it from her hair, finding it impossible to speak with this new distraction. "I was just talking to Lammy and she was helping me with my homework." Shrinking when instead of her releasing his hand he gripped it in tightening hold, she whispered, "A-and it's rude to be eavesdropping in on people's conversations, Lifty."

Lifty bent lower, sending her shrinking even more at his close proximity, and popped the tension cherry. "Not when that conversation involves you, sweetheart, then you have the right to listen~ ya know, I really don't like when people talk behind my back."

Her blush subsided at the claim. "W-what? When people talk about you?" She cast away her eyes when he gave her the look that asked if she was really that stupid. Her relief she received from staring at nothing but his shoes was taken away as he lifted her chin up, amusement fleeting and replaced by a choleric stare.

"Yes, Flaky, when people talk about me I get very annoyed," he brushed the corner of her lip, "it makes me think they're saying bad things about me, but you'd never do that, would you~?"

She once again moved her hand up to stop his, face pink and ears aflame. "N-no? Lifty what are you talking ab—"

"Hnng, I just wanna know why you're telling Lammy things that don't concern her when you haven't even told me yet." He dropped his hand and stuffed it in his pocket. His intimidating expression and tugged down lips closer than Flaky found appropriate, she felt the warm gasps escape her lips and pencil dropping from her shaking grasp.

"Don't play stupid Flaky, I know what you're up to. You think you're so smart and your games are entertaining, well they aren't. And I advise that you stop them right now, I'm not as nice as your war veteran and I can do and say things that will—" He stifled a curt laugh at her gaping mouth.

"Lifty I-I really don't know what you're speaking of . . ! I wouldn't say anything bad about y-you if that's what you're asking, really."

"Oh really?~ then why did I specifically hear you telling Lammy that you're not going to—" his words turned sardonic and scornful, "—'deal with this' anymore? If you think I'm so mean, if you finally realize that, then why didn't you tell me to go a while ago? Why did you wait until now when . . ." When he had turned away his last option thinking she would be his rock from now on.

Flaky, thoroughly confused with where he had gotten that from, asked, "Are you talking about . . ? N-no Lifty it wasn't what you think, you misunderst—"

"I know what you said, Flaky, and it just proves how big of an idiot I am for thinking that this could happen." There was nothing, absolutely nothing, going on between them and still he felt betrayed. He had taken her kindness and began thinking that it was something else, that just maybe, but it was a stupid idea in the end.

He straightened suddenly, rubbing the back of his neck, and shrugging as she stuttered out incomprehensible words. Waiting for her to say something, anything, he could only turn away when she didn't.

"You should call Flippy or someone, you don't know what could happen these next few days." She didn't know if Shifty would be up to any tricks, and having a boy that could drive the vengeful thief away or be her protection if the need should arise gave him a sense of comfort. "I'll see you around town Flaky, thanks for giving me a place for a bit. It was . . . n-nice of you." The unfamiliar word had refused to be formed by his lips that usually said acrimonious curses or offensive sayings, ending in the coughed out stammer.

And before Flaky had called to him to explain, he had briskly left. Speechless, she grabbed her pencil off the floor and stared after him, going back to work with troubling thoughts floating in her head.

Actually, she had worked for a short two minutes then had gotten up and went to go fetch her umbrella.

xXx

Pulling his scarf tighter around his bare throat, Lifty shielded his eyes from the quickening rain and hunched his shoulders. His shoes splashed up puddles that wet the trimmed ends of his pant legs, gaining his annoyance when they dragged through mud and ended up sticking to him. Hand still in pocket, he jumped down onto the street that was heading away from the redhead's house.

It really had been a stupid thought. How in the world did he believe that this would work? A girl who coped with paranoia coupled with a boy who stole for a living would not have turned out well. Not that he was thinking of anything along the lines of . . . but a platonic friendship in general would have been difficult too. She was in the group that could go anywhere and do anything without being judged or suspected; he was in the—it was hardly a group—category of untrusted, crude people that everyone would contradict what they said unless they had concrete proof.

The way she so strongly believed that she could influence his cause was an ambitious thought, but nothing more.

As the rain began pelting down harder Lifty sped up into a half jog. Within ten minutes he had gotten to the shopping area that was usually streaming with shoppers, people bustling to get the items on their lists bought, but in the downpour it was empty. Save for a few people rushing to get in their cars. He would walk past them and receive stares of discomfort, as well as finding that the people still out took evasive actions upon seeing him. They clutched their objects tighter as if they knew he was the culprit who stole them on most occasions.

He turned into a music store to avoid these actions. The shelves were racked high and filled with CDs of every genre, ranging from classic rock, to modern day pop, and breezy indie. Air conditioned air blasted from the vents and was gratefully welcomed, fresh opposed to the humidity of the outside. He saw a cyan colored head from over the shelves and heard a low 'oh yeah~' behind the counter. Other than that the store was empty, Lifty sighing in contentment at the hope of being undisturbed.

Disco Bear was thinking otherwise, though. The afro haired man took off the earphones, a techno beat a emitted off them, and watched the browsing teen. This looked like a person who had walked in just to touch and leave. He didn't want those, they were just filling up space real customers could be in. Turning the music down, he snapped his fingers until Lifty's attention was on him.

"Hey, if you're just gonna get everything dirty, why don't you go somewhere else? I'm running a business here, and it can't attract the lovely ladies if there's only dudes in here~ get what I'm playing at?"

Lifty wasn't all that comfortable being talked to by the local pedophile either, he had his ways of making everyone near him feel awkward. He placed the record he was looking at back and answered, "No."

"Meaning, if I'm only bringing in guys, it might just look like I'm going for the other team, and I do not want the girlies thinking that~" DB wasn't thinking of how much his profits would be affected if he turned away every male clientele and saved his services for the women. "So I need you to leave, boy."

That was a good tactic for losing business. The groovy man wouldn't have known if he had brought money with the intentions of purchasing something; he hadn't, but still. The twin picked the record behind the one he had set down, turning it in his hands. He read the song names and recognized none, but put it under his arm and nodded at the owner. "Right, no problem, I'll go right now."

"That's a good kid—" Squinting, Disco Bear saw the dark red corner sticking out from his arm that could only belong to a cover. "Hey, where are you going with that? Boy, you cannot buy anything, there won't be music left for the ladies. Are you hearing me?"

"Yeah, I hear you loud and clear~" Lifty passed through the metal detectors, grinning as they started beeping and the jubilant feeling of stealing again coursed through him. "But that doesn't mean I have to listen to you, old man~!"

DB sputtered and ran around the counter—his attempt at hopping over it had failed, his bulging gut getting in his way. "Oh~ that is not cool~ Get back here!"

Lifty stuck his head back in the store, smirking at the round man pushing the only other customer aside and warning him that he would call the police. "Get back there or what? You'll eat me~? Fatass, guard your stuff more next time." He ducked out of the music store as Disco Bear bumbled around knocking over CDs and even a rotating stand.

His breath exhilarated from the steal, no matter that it was small, he raced to the last store and cut its corner. Over the heightening rain Lifty heard the outraged voice of the oversized store owner, who had given up the chase when reaching the door, shout to him. The snarky smile was still intact even as the shouting and threats stopped, his eyes turning back to the object of ruckus.

The record, droplets of water rolling down the laminated cover, was of a band he hadn't heard of. But by the looks of the mullets and thigh high jean shorts, he wouldn't want to know. He giddily wiped the water away and stared a bit longer, the excitement waning after the third minute and the smile slipping from his face. Going from the eagerness of getting his hands on a new object and putting his trade to work, to staring at it simply, he realized just what was going on.

He was standing in the rain by himself with a completely worthless item in his possession.

This wasn't his normal train of thought, but now it just . . . It looked like what it really was: A record he would never listen to and never work up the energy to sell. Not that most people would like to purchase an unpopular band's album. It was a worthless thing that he wouldn't need but had felt good to take, and when he took a double take it had turned into garbage. How was that . . ?

Lifty looked towards the street where cars were driving by and splashing up puddles, frowning genuinely.

He was alone and had cut cords the one person who was his family, though that wasn't the being he was thinking about. His thoughts were turned to the little redhead who had been kind to him from minute one, dealing with his oppressive attitude and giving him a peek into the amount of optimism she had. There was enough for her to give a generous amount to him, but all the offerings he had rejected and enjoyed his own anger.

He had digressed from her while she tried aiding him in his problems, turning a blind eye to her helpfulness and acceptance. Why he wouldn't, hadn't, let her assist him only fueled his growing annoyance. Ignorant, that's what he was if he deliberately tried going against every rule she had. She told him to be nice, and he brought he inner mean out; she asked him to help her with little things, and he made certain that she did all the work herself; she said she would listen to anything he had to say, and he refused to speak to her.

Why did she had to be so nice and wholehearted, it wasn't fair to him, the male who could give only rudeness and pretentious attitudes. She was—ugh, so confusing with her sweet and gentle self. He'd have felt better if every blunder or snappish remark he made was responded with harsh and punishing words on her part; the forgiveness she gave if he screwed up was more than he could understand. Flaky was . . . was . . .

"So frustrating," Lifty muttered. Face twisting in disgust at the record, he made it to the trashcan and stared into it. He didn't need it, he did not need it; he would never in his life need it. Struggling at the inner conflict, his fingers released its sides until only his index finger and thumb remained holding it up by its corner. "Flaky, you're so terrible."

She was terrible because she had brought him to his knees by being herself. By acting as his new weakness.

Lifty let go of the album and watched its descent into the dark trash, mouth opening and shutting. He turned, walking to the wall of the nearest store and sitting down on the wet pavement. Back pressed to it, he turned his eyes to the grey sky and sighed, the pellets of rain hitting his skin. "G-d, I am a jerk." The twin shut his eyes and huffed out, "Screw everything . . ."

Pat, pat, pat.

He opened his eyes at the patting of light feet on the slippery concrete and a huffy breath.

The first thing he saw were the tan socks covering pale flesh.

Trailing up, Lifty passed the black skirt, baggy sweater, and fiery curls of hair that framed a round face. Her cheeks were flushed and the red umbrella he remembered clearly was held over her, mouth open in soft pants due from her running. Flaky tightened her hand on the umbrella, swallowing and waiting expectantly.

Receiving no response, she tried speaking, but finding her words and sounds gone.

". . ."

Lifty stiffened and almost cursed in surprise when she dropped the umbrella with a clatter, going onto her knees despite the wet floor. He didn't say a word as she moved into the space between his open legs, his shirt being gripped in her small hands and her plushy chest pushed up against him.

Her hair tickling the underside of his chin, her moist nose touching his heating neck, Flaky whispered, "I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry Lifty. Sorry."

She . . . she had went after him, Lifty's brain finally processed, face burning at the realization. If she had been so intent on finding him just to apologize, how much in the fault could she be? Surely she wouldn't have said she didn't want his presence anymore then waste over half an hour tracking him in the rain. . . .

"Lifty, I'm s-sorry," she choked out, fisting his shirt and vest tighter. "If I h-hurt you in some way, I didn't know I did. If you told m-me my mistake then I could do something about—"

The unexpected happened, Flaky gasping as the thief held her trembling body in his strong arms in a fierce hug. Breathing uneven and eyes blinking away the rain, she heard him utter a deep grunt.

Lifty stared at the dark clouds with a bad mood frown, the color of his face a red that he wanted hidden from her view. "Shut up Flaky, you need to stop apologizing."

Flaky couldn't stop her small smile, knowing that would be the closest he came to giving an affectionate response.

Twice he had thought she was a fake, and twice he had been proved wrong. If that didn't say something, he didn't know what did.

"And you really need to stop being so damn confusing. Seriously."

xXx

This was so fluffy and oh gosh Cx

How come everyone is turning against me!? Crystal is the butthole here! I should start a petition or something, maybe a war! You hear that Crystal? I'm calling war on you! Anyone who wants to fight with me should just stab her and—

Person: Shut up! You talk too much! *throws brick and hits my head*