Chapter Text
Lyney was shaking.
It was barely noticeable, just the slightest tremble. The audience were none the wiser, but Lynette, observant as she was and always in tune with her twin, took note of it the second their magic show began. At first, she wasn't sure if she was just imagining things or not. Their show started the same as always, just as all the ones that came before it.
But as the act dragged on, she noticed all the tiny details that only one as close to Lyney as she was could see. The way his typical pale lavender irises that shone brightly any other day seemed several shades duller. The way his throated bobbed uncomfortably whenever he swallowed, the slightest wince twitching onto his face for a fraction of a second before it's gone as soon as it came. The way he had a slight sheen of sweat over his face that gave him a sickly glow. The way there was a barely recognizable stumble whenever he took a wavering step. The way whenever she nearly would brush past him, he would jerk away so as to not make contact with her own body. The way his chest would rise and fall almost in a gasp after every step too quick. And now, that slight, yet unmistakable tremble that overtook his entire upper body as he flaunted about the stage.
All this details became so clear to Lynette, that by the end of the show, she couldn’t help but be worried. She looked out in the audience, who were clapping and cheering up a storm for the twins as confetti fell around them. Her eyes happened to pass by her darling little brother, Freminet, in the audience too. He was quietly clapping, with a rare, but genuine small smile on his face. It wasn't often that he came to his older siblings' shows, so Lynette's heart filled with a gentle fondness, hoping that Lyney had somehow noticed Freminet's attendance as well. Perhaps after the show, they could all get some dessert together. The thought alone made her tail twitch with excitement. But before any of that could happen, as always, she reached out to Lyney’s already outstretched hand to take their final bow. The moment their gloves touched, Lynette’s worries about him slowed to a halt. She always felt comforted when her brother’s fingers were intertwined with her’s. She tried to exchange a glance with her brother before they dipped into a bow, but his fringe was uncharacteristically matted with sweat, making her unable to meet his eyes. Without another word, Lyney took off his hat, giving Lynette the signal to bow together with him. And bow they did, the same as always, the audience’s cheers only growing louder. As Lynette straightened back up, the same as always, she waited for Lyney to rise with her. And so for Lynette, who loved so much when things could be the same as always, didn’t know what to do when all too quickly, things were in fact, not the same as always. As she felt Lyney’s fingers suddenly slip out of her grip, all she could do was watch in horror as her precious older brother crumpled to the floor.