#rossyele

“I got curious, little bro. Wanted to see what you were working on. But okay, your hair’s fine. Should we get going?” 

Pollux and Castor leave the apartment. As Pollux locks up, Castor hears the loud roar of a motorcycle from the other side of the street and he turns, catching a glimpse of the rider. But he immediately whirls around and ducks his head, trying to hide his blue hair.

“What is it?” Pollux asks.

“Ah, the Prince passed by. Can’t have my number one fan spotting me, can I?” Castor replies as he listens to the sounds of the motorcycle moving further away. Goddamn...this cat and mouse game with the Prince is fun, but not on good days; on good days, Castor wants to avoid any potential threats to his plans with his favorite people.

The streetlamps have turned on and Castor’s skin tingles as the city comes alive. It’s like there’s an electrical charge in the air, a buzz that makes Castor feel more alive as well. The colors from the buildings and the people seem to jump out at him, and even though he’s lived here for most of his life, Castor still can’t get used to all the sensations the city provides him with. The twins make their way towards the diner, but Castor walks at a leisurely pace, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city --the delicious smells wafting through the air, the music from different generations filtering out from restaurants and pubs as the door opens.

Pollux puts a hand on Castor’s arm, signaling him to stop. In front of them, a couple of Guards exit their car and go into a restaurant. The Guards don’t take notice of them, thankfully, and he hears Pollux letting out his breath.

“God, what is up with tonight? They all come home or something?” Castor hisses in a whisper, in case any of them are still near.

“Maybe. But alright, let’s go. I put an illusion over you.” Pollux states, resuming his walk. Castor falls into the step beside Pol and puts an arm around his brother’s shoulder.

“You did? What do I look like? A hot stud? Oh wait, I already look like that!”

“No. I made you look like a 7-year old girl with ponytails.”

Castor throws back his head as he laughs and he twirls around for his twin. “Goddamn! I’m a cute kid! Just watch me, Pollie --I’m gonna get some candy before we reach the diner.”

════════════════════

Our inbox and asks are always open!!

You can also interact with them on their twitter accounts:

Lyra  |  Castor  |  Pollux

If you’d like to support us we have a Ko-fi !

Vanderwood walks around the house, tying his hair up into a ponytail. He can't believe he fell asleep. It's a beautiful fucking Sunday and he knows he was supposed to take Izabella out for lunch. But the last mission he was on took a toll on him and he couldn't sleep again the night before. Of course his loving girlfriend wouldn't wake him...but he still felt bad, knowing he missed an opportunity to spoil her.

The secret agent hears music coming from the kitchen and he grimaces -she's cooking him a meal. Shit, he really screwed up.

Vanderwood walks up to the kitchen, seeing the door open. Then he stops and takes in the scene before him. Izabella has her back to him, her hair up in a messy bun as she stirs the pot. Her body is swaying slightly as she hums to the tune from the radio.

Vanderwood leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms and watching his beautiful girlfriend. He could get used to this. Coming home to her...coming home. He's never dreamed he would ever settle down. But now, with Izabella in his life, he's considering it.

Izabella stirs the pot smiling thinking of her boyfriend who is still probably sleeping and is going to panic when he wakes up and looks at the time. But she couldn't bring herself to wake him, not when she knew how drained missions left him.

She was grateful that he made it back, every time. She is not disappointed at him for sleeping in, she would give anything to have him there soundly asleep than him being out working for the agency. She would take this kind of day anytime. Izabella glances at dirty dishes, the cups from the night before, the cutting board and the knife she just used. She lowers the temperature of the stove and steps in front of the sink, a small sway on her hips.

Vanderwood rolls up his sleeves and walks forward. She still hasn't noticed his presence. Izabella starts washing the dishes and Vanderwood steps behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and laying his hands on top of hers. Izabella gasps and Vanderwood chuckles, brushing his lips on the side of her head.

"Baby, why didn't you wake me?"

"Good morning," she turns her head and grins at him, "how could I when you look like that?"

"Like what?" He asks raising an eyebrow.

"Like a cute pouting baby," Izabella giggles.

"I do not look like that and I never pout," Vanderwood says pouting.

She tiptoes and leaves a butterfly kiss on his chin and then returns to her task, "and I am already cooking."

"But I promised I was taking you out for lunch today."

"And you know I love cooking for you, so there is nothing to argue about."

"Hmph."

Vanderwood knows he doesn't pout. It's ridiculous. Men like him don't pout.

....but if it gets him kisses...

Vanderwood plants another kiss on her head and he pulls away, wiping his hands on the towel. He can feel Izabella's eyes regarding him and to be honest, he has no fucking idea why he's doing this. But he figured...she deserves a memorable date nonetheless.

Vanderwood turns up the radio, the soft crooning of a male voice filling the small room. He can feel his face warming but he swallows and turns back around, extending a hand towards Izabella. Placing his other hand on his chest over his heart, he gives her a slight bow.

"May I have this dance, Izabella Mun?"

Izabella lets out a surprised giggle."But my hands are wet!"

"I don't mind, Bella. You cooked a meal for us...let me at least make up for it."

"Then you may," she wipes her hands on her shorts and walks to him, his hand wraps around hers and the other rests on the small of her back. He moves his feet and she follows his lead. She smiles at him when she notices the blush on his cheeks, and in all honesty, she is impressed with his dancing skills.

They dance and spin to the slow-paced rhythm, inside the kitchen between the stove and the fridge. She loves it so much she could cry, there inside the arms of the man she adores. If time could stop, she wouldn't mind it at all.

His lips curl up into a smirk and heat runs over her face, "you are so beautiful, Bella."

"And you are so handsome," she replies resting her head on his chest.

Vanderwood gently sways from side to side, holding her close. For a moment, everything disappears. It's just the two of them, two people in love, their hearts beating to the melody, beating for each other.

Then the moment is shattered by the pot overflowing.

"Oh, fuck!" Vanderwood curses, letting go of Izabella and reaching for the pot.

Izabella watches as he removes the lid and stirs the contents of the pot. Her heart flutters, this is it, what she dreams of doing the rest of her life; to be with him, to be able to enjoy the simple things, the ones others give for granted. She wants to spend her days doing nothing and everything, to cook and dance, to wash dishes and laugh, to do laundry and kiss.

Every moment as tiny as it may be she cherishes and saves as precious memories, these flicker like stars on the dark nights he is gone. She wishes that these same stars guide him back to her, back home.

Vanderwood turns off the stove and glances at his girlfriend who is giving him a longingly look, he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, "food is ready!"

She walks up to him, "thank you."

"Well, I had to save your delicious food."

Izabella shakes her head, "not that," she wraps her hands around his neck, "for making me happy, I love you."

He inhales sharply, "Bella..."

"I know," she tiptoes and he meets her lips halfway, his arms surround her waist.

They share a tender kiss, "I love you too," he says over her lips and she smiles before resuming the moment.

"The food," Izabella speaks between gasps.

"Food can wait," he says lifting her so she can sit on the counter, "I can't."

Izabella giggles and he smirks. They make up for lost time, they catch up on kisses and embraces. Out of the most simple things they create the greatest memories, the stars that guide them home to each other.