fifty-one. [Twinned.]
Their eyebrows are crooked in mirror image and although his eyes are steelgrey and hers are earthbrown it is quite obvious that they are alike. They’ve been clinging together since the beginning of existence were born with their palms attached; her hand is flawed from where they had to cut him free but she doesn’t mind the scar. Their hearts beat in time with memories from the womb and if they’re very still and co-ordinate their breathing it’s like a return to being a single entity. [This frightens her; there is something terrifying about being an I instead of a we.]