I picked up a handful of water and watched it seep through my fingers. "It's none of your business. Anyway, don't you have anything better to do?"
Cloud huffed and crossed his arms, his feathers ruffling. "So I can't talk to my brother now?"
"Not when he's clearly busy."
Cloud snorted and sat down beside me without any regard to personal space. His feathers brushed up against my skin. Sometimes I wondered if my life would've been easier if I was born a harpy, too. The benefits were obvious. First was the obvious power of flight. Most people and creatures could swim with practice, but flight was an inborn ability. You either had it or you didn't. Second was the fact that he could walk in both harpy and human form, while I could only do so in the latter. It wasn't like I could get around on land hopping on my mer tail.
Third was something more difficult to explain, an experience he wouldn't understand unless he'd dealt with it—and as much as my twin irritated me, it wasn't something I ever wanted him to go through.
Because unlike me, Cloud had never been fetishized.
"I went to go see the new babies," Cloud began, ignoring my attempt to dodge a conversation. "They'resocute. I'm glad I can fly so I can pop over whenever I want to hang out with them."
My eye twitched. "I bet you are."
"Azure is huge now. He's technically our nephew related by blood or something, right?"
I fiddled with a large pebble while Cloud prattled on. When we were kids, he'd often get mad at me for zoning out during his long-winded, one-sided conversations, but as we grew up he realized it was easier to just keep talking. I wasn't completely ignoring him. I just preferred to listen—unless he was talking about something utterly boring, in which case I was glad to tune out.
Cloud sighed wistfully. "Man, when you see how happy our cousins are, it really makes me wish I had that too, you know?"
That struck a nerve. I clenched the pebble in my fist so hard my knuckles turned white, then I threw it in the water. Without any intentional effort on my part, it skimmed across the surface four times before sinking.
"Hey, nice job!" Cloud said.
I didn't respond. Cloud’s remark had me thinking of the anniversary of my breakup again.
Cloud tilted his head. "River, are you okay? You're giving off this negative vibe. More so than usual."
My bad mood was creeping back up on me and Cloud’s comment made it worse. "Sorry I can't be happy all the time like you," I snapped.
He looked startled. "I'm not happy all the time, I just don't mope around like you do. Didn't you hear what I said two seconds ago?"
"What?"
Cloud furrowed his brow. "You weren't actually listening to me, were you? I was pouring my guts out about how it sucks to watch people close to you have something you want so badly." He narrowed his eyes, hurt. "Remind me not to do that again."
A pang of guilt hit me. It was true that I hadn't been fully listening. I thought Cloud was rambling about nothing, but he actually felt the same way I did. We did share a twin bond after all, even if we weren't identical.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush hot with shame. "I'm feeling particularly sensitive today."
"Did something happen?"
My shoulders sagged. "No. It's just… It's been six months since my breakup."
Cloud made an incredulous face, like he thought that wasn't something worth getting this upset over, but he kept it to himself.
"Oh," was all he said.
"I know you don't get it," I muttered. "But it's been weighing on me all day."
Cloud put his hand on my shoulder, careful not to jab me with his talons. Just like my tail, his hand was covered in scales, though his were of the bird-like variety.
"But River, it hasn't just been all day," Cloud said gently. "You've been acting like this since it happened."
"No, I haven't," I replied, jarred by the accusation.
"Yes, you have. You've been in amoodever since it happened, and you won't talk to us about it. Not me, not our dads, not anyone in the family. We can't help you if you don't talk to us about anything."
