Mother

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Aelin didn't bother running threw the rain, her hood was heavy enough to shield her face and she didn't care too much for the cold.

Finally after the long walk from her apartment she approached her old home. Still tall and brooding and distorted- it was definitely a sight among the other houses. Up the porch steps and threw the oak door, her brother hollered for her from upstairs. There was a policeman standing with a pale hand man hidden under his white hood. He looked more sinister than the house itself- though both seemed as if they were waiting on her arrival.

Her brother looked up at her, sitting upright on the couch in that position of unease.

"Aelin." He whined at his twin sister, his eyes almost a plead.

Aelin forced herself to listen to the officer as he explained their Mothers death in specific detail, little remorse, seemingly hungering for her reaction. When he finished and waited for her outburst, she just nodded, and looked for Sam's approval to head home. Sam's head dropped to his hands and led out a long breath, unsatisfied how he knew, she found this boring.

A chore to come here, and an inconvenience to listen through to this shit piece cop explain something Aelin already knew. She almost forgot about the tall pale man in the room and crept her eyes toward his way.

"That's not all." The policemen started again. "Young lady, you should take this passing into consideration as a reunion." The cops eyes stalked up to the hooded man as hers were, and Aelin lost interest now that he was acknowledged.

"Get out." Sam demanded. Every head turned to him.
"Both of you get out," he said to the cop, to the mysterious man.
"This house was hers, and if you knew her, you would know she hated company."

Her twin brother stood, motioning for the door. The cop left the door open behind him for the hooded man, but he just stood, and turned. Turned to Aelin, his disfigured face towards her. His eyes, pale as death himself and nothing like her pair of blue orbs, but the shape of those lips, and that abused nose, like hers, like Sams.

He wasn't studying her, he didn't need to. He could see in her what he saw in Sam. He was waiting for her to study him.

She did nothing of the sort.

She showed him no respectable reaction, only looked to the door and back to him.. Like Sam, she had her own way of telling people to get the hell out.

كجخ

"Any comments? Notes, or concerns?" Sam gave a sad half smile and a small noise akin to a laugh. Trying to brighten a mood that was never diminished in the first place- not for Aelin at least.

Aelin said nothing, and the rest of the ride home was silent. He said this was important, he said this would spark a nerve, but it didn't. The woman who died in that house gifted her with a shallow cruelty. So she will be a brute to her death, if only to return the favor. Aelin turned her head back to the setting sun, filling her eyes with liquid gold from the light that shown threw the running raindrops that melted over the window as the twins pulled up to the driveway.

In the house that night, Sam came in and leaned on the door frame. Sam, the only person Aelin could feel any remorse or respect for. Sam who she grew up with.

"So, we know now." His eyes were on the window, as if something would break threw.

"I suppose we do." Aelin said, and she knew, even with her lack of heart, how much that encounter meant to Sam. So, the Victoriano twins did had a father, and he looked like he had been to hell and back. Sam who had always longed to meet him, and Aelin who simply never cared. Never cared, but somehow hungered to see that longing part of Sam satisfied.

But he was not. What in the hell had happened in that house before she was there?

Sam took out a messy little scrap book from his hidden hand, and glowed with a devilish grin.

"Stealing from the dead?" Aelin quirked her head, a hint of a smirk.

"Oh yeah, how selfish of me, because Mom will be using this beyond the grave." Then, a real smile.

"Surprised she didn't want herself cremated into a camera of her own."

Then, the twins opened the scrapbook, and pointed out every flaw and stupid decision of their younger selves till they passed out.

They didn't talk about Ruben Victoriano or their mother the whole night.

A/N
I shouldn't be publishing this yet, but it is for Ruviks/ Rubens Birthday!! Happy Birthday my sunflower!

And this story is short, so I know I publish too many Ruvik stories (there can never be TOO MANY by the way)

Hope you enjoyed, this may seem short but it escalates quickly.

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