Trina and Sky
9
2They arrive at the ball together, as they always do—
One in shadow tones, eyes sharp and still. The other in softness, her presence like warm light through linen curtains. They don't speak loudly, but rooms fall quiet around them all the same.
The taller one—Trina—moves like silence sharpened to a point. Curvy, composed, with a dark green gaze that lingers a beat too long for comfort. She doesn’t smile unless she means it. She listens more than she talks, but when she speaks, the words cut clean through. Her confidence is not loud—it’s structural.
Beside her - Sky is a study in quiet gravity. Pear-shaped, grounded, with light blue-grey eyes that always seem to notice first, but never demand to be seen. She carries warmth the way others wear perfume—subtle, steady, and unforgettable. Her voice is soft, her demeanor calm, and wherever she is, people feel just a little more at ease. She doesn’t try to lead, but people often follow.
Together, they move like myth—not mirror images, but reflections of balance.
One is steel beneath velvet.
The other, shelter in stillness.
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