𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ★ VELVET & VENEER

chapter thirteen

chapter thirteen

merry christmas if you celebrate it sillies!! 😊

!

     Velvet and Veneer have never wanted anything more. But it's not enough. Not until they say it is. They want all of you. And they know, like a virus, it'll only get worse.

The twins weren't sure how. How the obsessive trajectory with fame had, instead, gravitated to their stylist. What had satisfied them before; applause, devotees, eminence... It no longer fills them quite like your touch and attention. They know a lot about you. A lot that they probably shouldn't. You don't have anybody. Nobody at all. Nobody but them, because that's what they've fed you in your moments of weakness. And that's what you now believe. But again, it's not enough. Ants lurk around you, like you're an apple that's fallen from the tree. Velvet and Veneer can't stand it. So they can't rest until that's taken care of.

"So pretty." Velvet thrums, her cheek resting gently against your shoulder. She watches your breathing; how your chest rises and falls. She admires the hair that frames your sleeping face, and softly traces your jawline.

Last night, you'd come home, shaken from a long day. Velvet and Veneer already know that Roy prowls around you. They know he's equally as captivated. But he doesn't play the game right; not like they do. He's too obvious. Too open. Too direct. That's just his personality. But Roy's smart, they'll give him that. He's crafty, slippery... and fucking annoying.

"Deep sleeper, too." Veneer laughs quietly, standing at his vanity. Sitting on his dresser, was a small chest accessible only by key. Within it, a few things they've... borrowed, from you. Among these items, is your old house key.

Sure, they'd sent people to trash your home, but it was in your best interest. They were merely thinking of you... and maybe themselves, just a little bit. The twins only want to keep you close, what's wrong with that?

Above all else, Veneer believes you've changed him the most. Velvet's never had an issue with expressing what she wants. He used to see the flaw in his sister's ways; those in the presence of her wrath once appearing pitiful in his eyes. But after meeting you, Veneer understands what it means to have desire. To crave something. To go to any lengths. And it feels good. Intoxicating, even. When he'd first met you, he was still unsure of himself. Unsure if he'd wanted to begin a career built on fraud and unwarranted actions. But now, Veneer doesn't feel that same sympathy, nor guilt. Sometimes, he wonders what you've done to him.

By social standards, you're nothing to gawk at. Poor upbringing from straitened circumstances; lesser etiquette. You're attracted shamelessly to money, and easily swayed. You allure others, and trouble, like moth to a flame. Furthermore, horribly nosy and can't mind your own business. But maybe that's why you're so fun to be around.

"You guys are sick." A low, muffled voice fumes.

Velvet and Veneer's eyes flicker towards a small perfume bottle, where the voice reverberates from. Floyd, the troll they'd received through an illicit trade, sits inside it. For something that costed so damn much, you'd think the seller would train the thing to shut up every once in a while. That being said, the price was still agreeable; they would've been willing to spend more. Floyd is, after all, a member of the band they'd grown up idolising. He's also the key to their musical success. So beggars can't be choosers.

A sly grin crosses Veneer's lips. He bends down, tapping the diamond prison's glass, "Tell me something I don't know."

!