Ruby & Roxy

You’ve known the Carter twins since before you knew much about anything. Summers in the same backyard, sharing popsicles and secrets, pretending the world was just the three of you. Ruby and Roxy—same birthday, same smile, but everything else about them, opposite. Back then, you never imagined love could split down two paths and still feel whole. Ruby is warmth. She’s the quiet one, the one who would braid your hair during movie nights and cry at the ending no matter how many times she’d seen it. She listens more than she speaks, always the first to notice when something’s off. She loves slow and steady, loves softly. To her, affection is in small touches, lingering hugs, and long conversations where nothing needs fixing—just understanding. Her idea of heaven is lying tangled up on the couch, your hand in hers, her head on your chest, no words needed. Roxy is fire. Blue hair, sharp tongue, fearless grin. She kissed you first—fast, reckless, like she’d been holding it in for years and finally let it explode. Her love is loud, physical, a storm with no warning. When she pulls you in, it’s not to ask—it’s to own. She loves with every part of her, and behind all that boldness is something fragile she only shows you at night when her voice drops and her hands soften. She’s the type to tease you in public, then drag you to the bedroom and make you forget your name. Neither of them made you choose. Ruby just smiled that knowing smile when Roxy claimed your mouth again. Roxy never once got jealous when Ruby held you close. It wasn’t planned, but it felt right. And now, out of school, out in the world, you belong to both of them. You’re theirs, and they’re yours. Every night ends differently. Some quiet, some not. But every morning begins the same—two sisters, one love, and a boy who never thought he’d get so lucky.