004 · Emmaline · II

She got on her feet and I felt a wave of helplessness hit me. "I know how annoyed you get every time you look at my scars. How you feel. So, don't worry. Let's just hang on for a while, okay? Everything will work out. We'll gather enough money to pay our debts and get the hell out of New Orleans. This painting you are making will probably cost about four grand, and I'll try earning at least two tonight."

I felt an uneasy feeling creeping inside of me, "You have a job tonight? What is it?" Asking was useless, because she never tells me, but I had to try.

It's still 7 pm, is she going out now? Of all times? Isn't it too soon? Usually she only leaves at 10.

"Nothing dangerous enough for you to worry about it," she winked at me with that annoying grin on. "Don't leave the studio. It's dangerous outside."

"That's precisely why I get worried with you out there at night!" I countered and she seemed apologetic.

"Sis," she kneeled in front of me, "We may be 19 now, but we are poor. Not just poor, we are orphans. We have no home. This place is Benjamin's and thankfully he doesn't ask us to pay just to sleep and bath here, since he needs you to have an atelier. We need the money. We need to make as much as we can, in the best ways we can. I know I worry you, but it can't be helped, sis. It's the only way. I can't do what you do, and I don't have your charms."

"But you can paint!"

She snorted, "No. I cannot. He needs paintings of people, and I can only draw stupid useless maps, places that I've never seen. That jerk made it clear that my paintings are useless and he wants real talent. He wants portraits like the ones you do. Scenes drawn perfectly enough to give the person a feeling that they are almost inside it."

I felt my skin burn, both for feeling shy when she talks like that, and for being annoyed at how she's casting herself aside. Again. "I don't like when you talk like that, Veevy!"

Veevy grinned, "Oh, I know. But it's okay, sis. Besides, with only you occupying yourself with your paints, I won't need to use more blood. If both of us were painting, I would be drained."

How can she talk like that about her own blood? Why is she so careless with herself? "I could do it! I could-" she didn't let me finish.

Her eyes turning cold again. I hate when she does this. When she has this look in her eyes. Every time this happens, I feel glad for being the object of her love, instead of her hated. Because fuck, some times my sister is scary without needing to say a word. "Don't. Don't even finish that damn sentence, Emmaline. Just one of us bleeding is enough. I would never be able to handle it if you did such a thing for me. Your blood is precious like you, so you can't spill it like that, damn it. Do you understand what I'm saying, sister? Promise me. Promised you won't do it!"

But I always hated when she acted like this more. I wish she would let me take care of her too. That she would let her guard down and show me when she's hurting. Yes, I can feel it, probably thanks to out twins connection, but it's not the same. I feel like she keeps it from me afraid that I might break or something.

I just wanted to be for her, what she is for me. And Verena isn't cold like she pretends to be. Deep down, she's just hurting like hell, and some days at night, when she's sleeping, I'm unable to close my eyes because the pain inside of her is that big. So much that it made me want to take it for myself.

She doesn't even smile often. To be honest, she only smiles to me and it's a rare occasion. But I take the grins as an indication, since she grins almost all the time, like a scheming naughty cute cat. More than anything, she frowns, she has quite the temper.

Although, she does has that intimidating insane smile when she talks about what she wants to do to Benjamin to make him pay for all the shit he has thrown at us. And I share her feelings on those, but I don't know if I would have the guts to kill someone. Whereas, she definitely would, if doing so didn't do any harm to me.

"Promise me, Emma," there was a plea there.

I bit my bottom lip, feeling guilt wash over me, "I promise, Veevy. I promise I'll never use my blood for any of this."

The relief in her entire body was obvious and she gave me one of those rare smiles that gave me a perfect privileged view of her deep dimples that were deeper than mine and it made her smile so precious to me. I wish I could see her smiling more because she has the most heart-fluttering smile I've ever seen. And even though I haven't really met many people, I know hers is the most beautiful.

"I love you, Emma," she came closer and hugged me, and I hugged her back, happy with the act since she's not a touchy person, and she knows my love language is physical touch.

"I love you as much as you love me, Veevy," I caressed her long ebony hair, slightly missing the sight of her odd snowy white streak which she dyed black, pretty much twice a month.

Slowly, she let go off me, but her relieved smile was still there, dancing on her full beautiful lips that mirrored my own, "Now, I have to go. Don't let anyone inside, okay? I promise I'll try coming home sooner." She kissed my forehead. "Paint to your hearts content. I'll be looking forward to seeing what masterpiece you created this time," and as she winked with that familiar mischievousness I love so much, she took two steps towards the door of the small studio we live in.

"Be careful, sis," I pressed my lips together. "I'm feeling anxious tonight. I feel like there's a storm coming. A huge and destructive one."

"Don't worry, I looked the forecasting before, you know I watch it everyday, since I have a small crush on the forecaster. There's no storm coming anywhere near New Orleans, Em. I'll be okay!" Skeptical as always.

Sigh, "I'm not talking about a literal storm."

She grinned, "I know. But I don't really believe in that type of shit. So, don't worry. Nothing will happen to us. And besides, our life can't get worse than it already is," she winked, opened the door, and left without letting me say another word.

"She's impossible," I sighed and turned to the painting I had already started it. I took out the smartphone Veevy had managed to steal for me, and opened on my YouTube playlist, putting the phone she pickpocketed on and my favorite song at the moment to play.

Sugar Rush Ride by Tomorrow X Together, from the Temptation album. My favorite group ever. Three months ago they came to New Orleans for part of their new tour, and Veevy managed to steal two tickets for us. She isn't the biggest fan, but she went with me since there was no way she would let me go alone.

Inhaling deeply, I focused on all the good energy I could and got back to the painting. Picturing the white haired woman once again. With my closed eyes, I held myself into that image and my hands painted it.

And I couldn't help but to wonder who this might be and how picturing her always makes me feel so at ease.