S.P.A.R.K.L.E And S.H.I.N.E

Chapter 12-01

Chapter 12-01

F.

A.

B.

U.

L.

O.

U.

S.

He looked f*****g faboulous!

As a platter of uncontrollable giggles were served, escaping the confines of his mouth, leaking throughout the bathroom like a contagious plague, he felt truly elevated. Felt like he was floating ten feet off the floor.

Twirling, holding up the hand mirror in front of him so he could use it to see how the back of his head looked in the looking glass that mounted the wall, he drank in the hot pink mess that was now his head.

And Dayuuuum, he looked sexy.

"Birdie," he whispered, almost dropping the mirror in his haste as he spun to face Raven, who had parked his ass on the closed lid of the loo, and was watching him with the sweetest dimpled grin to ever exist. Which was another thing. How in the fudgsicles could he and Angel be identical when he'd never seen sight nor sound of dimples in the moodier twin?

"What's wrong?" The grin slipped. Concern replaced it like a flashcard swapperoo. "Don't you like it? I can run out and grab you another colour."

Like it? He f*****g loved it.

But for some reason, the excitement hit him funny. It didn't present itself in the same loud, explosive manner that it usually did. It was quiet and creeping, filling him up like helium.

It took him far longer than it should have to recognize the warning signs. He was ashamed to admit that his littler headspace had become so stressed and scary lately that he almost couldn't identify the happy, floaty warm space it once was.

"I love it, Raven." His voice was still a whisper. But a small, happy squeal followed. "Ravie, birdie, my besty, thank youuuu! I love it. I love it. I love it! I'm so pretty, birdie. Oh! Babes, can we do makeup now so I can match?"

"And glitter," Raven injected, that oh, so adorable grin springing back. "Oh my days, Ro! Silver and gold glitter in that and the right clothes? Baby boy, you'll knock every single one of 'em dead!"

Baby boy. How could two words be so damn powerful? They pushed him closer to the edge, making it harder and harder to stay focused.

"Will you do my makeup for me, birdie?" he asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Rising to his feet, Raven nodded. His chest puffed out somewhat, and his grin tore across his face like he was trying to put the cheshire cat out of business.

"I'd love to. Here, give me this before you drop it. We don't want you to cut yourself, do we, squiggles?"

Raven had always made slipping so effortless. It was more than just him being a blanket of safety that allowed him to achieve that mindset with a graceful euphoria. He understood him. He understood his needs when Little. And he got him. He got him more than anybody else. He always seemed to know what Little him needed or wanted, and was never to busy to play with him.

And it made it so, so hard sometimes.

Handing him the mirror, he tried to shake tinglies that began to do jazz hands in his chest when the big birdie slipped his hand into his. Tried to ignore the skip that suddenly became his new walk. As they made their way out to the living room, Ronan was practically bouncing. His feet didn't remain on the floor for more than a few seconds, and their joined arms were swinging up and down in a wide arc.

"Angie," Ronan squealed, pulling his hand free of Raven's so he could rush over to where Angel was standing. He'd opened the balcony doors in the living room and was overlooking the speedy traffic flow. "Look! Look!"

Spinning around, Angel studied him. c****d his head to the side. Then nodded slowly. "You look fantastic, Ro-bow."

Ro-bow. It held the same impact that Raven calling him squiggles did. Or maybe it held more; Angel would only call him that while he was Little. The small grasp he still held to his bigger state of mind seemed to sail away from him in a runaway ship.

And as he giggled, drinking in the stark differences that helped him differentiate between the two brothers, all his worries seemed to peel away like banana skin.

"It's pink, Angie," he told him, just in case he wasn't sure of his colours. "And birdie washed it all and then he got the blowy gun and did this--" c*****g his finger like a glock, he sucked in a deep breath, lifted his extended finger to his lips and blew out so the hot air went everywhere. "He did it to my hairs and they went all dry, Angie."

"Can I take a picture so I can show Lucien how beautiful it is?" Angel asked. "Hey, no, Ronan. Back up. It's too dangerous out here for little boys." Using his arms to usher him back a few steps, Angel made his way back into the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him.

"And you show him my dancing, Angie?" Ronan asked hopefully, bouncing back a few paces so that he had the room he needed to kick up a leg and extend into a delicate twirl. "Raven sayed it was bootieful."

"He was right, Ro-bow. That was so perfect. Come sit with me, boy. I want to talk to you."

He loved holding Angel's hand. It was big and soft and warm, and made him feel like a tiny little thing. And as those large fingers curled around his own, pausing to tickle at his palm before engulfing his hand completely, he couldn't help but grin.

"Birdie, you hold dis hand so I can be a Wo-Wo sandwich?" He loved being a Wo-wo sandwich. He loved the feeling of having both his hands held by people who were his favourite. Angel and Luci had held them before, and before that, Luci and Sly, and it was just the bestest there was.

Oh! Imagine if he could get all his favourite people in one room, and they all held hands but he was at the centre, and then it would have been like the biggest, best sandwich in the entire world!