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Thomas cut to the chase.
"Micro, you never told me you had another twin outside of Saparata." he blurted.
Micro turned his neck to look at Thomas. They were sat on a cold wooden bench together, in the middle of January, despite the snow actively falling from the sky in thick tufts.
"I don't?" he furrowed his brows in a look Thomas would have cherished and giggled about at night if it weren't for the confusion burrowing in his mind.
"What?"
"I don't have any other twin besides Saparata. Uh, are you mixing up my family tree, dude? It's Snowbird, me and Saparata, and Jophiel. Youngest to oldest." Micro stuck up a finger for each member he named. Four.
"No, no, I know that—" Thomas mumbled. He carted a hand through his hair. "It's just—I heard that you had another twin? Like, I think I've seen 'em around, but I only got to talking to them yesterday."
Micro tilted his head. He leaned in towards Thomas, kicking the snow beneath him. "Really? What do they look like?"
"You, but a little shorter, I think," Thomas motioned towards the top of Micro's head and lowered his hand a little. "Dressed similarly too. Way bright hoodie, pretty similar hairstyle, whatever. They were also insanely pale and had this, honestly, weird mouth deformation—really strange cleft lip, maybe."
Micro raised an eyebrow. He looked off, biting his nail as he mulled over the description Thomas provided (lackluster, frankly). Finally: "How d'you it's not just, like, some coincidence? Maybe there's just someone out there that looks like me that you happened to pass by, y'know."
"I mean, I was surprised—obviously—so I went up to them and asked if they knew of you, right?" Thomas jumped off of the bench, preparing to act out the interaction. He walked over to a snowman nearby that clad in a red scarf and had a crooked head. "They said, and I quote, hopefully accurately: 'Micro? I'm related! I'm his twin. We… yeah.' but their face was all sour—" Thomas arranged the stones on the snowman's face to be scrunched, "—and twisted like I had just mentioned some dictator."
"Huh. Do you think there's another Micro?" Micro offered. His breath fogged up and his cheeks dusted pink that Thomas had to take a moment to process what his friend had just said, too lost in admiration.
"Micro's not a very common name, Micro. No offense—"
Micro laughed, "none taken."
"—but, yeah, this guy insisted that they were your sibling or something. Never said their name, their gender, or whatever. I mean, gender's not really my business—but my point still stands!"
Micro hummed. He dusted the light snow off and leaned back far enough to nearly hang off the backside. "Maybe they're parasocial, or something. I dunno. Lotta weird people nowadays, yeah?" he snorted.
Thomas crossed his arms. Fixing the snowman's face, he made his way back to the bench, reclaiming his rightful place to the right of Micro. (He resisted the urge to lean against Micro's warm figure.) "Probably."
"Yeah."
Thomas sighed, bringing his knees up so that his boots were sat right on the bench—where they did not belong. "…Micro, are you not telling me something?"
Micro stayed silent. Maybe he was ignoring him, maybe he was lost in thought. It was hard to tell with him.
"Micro?"
"…Yeah?"
"Are you hiding something?"
Micro sighed, bringing his hood back up. He kicked his feet once more, then swung himself off the bench quickly. A hand was offered to Thomas. "Sorry for cutting this short. I think I should get home. Before Saps or Jophiel start interrogating me."
Thomas swallowed a bitter lump in his throat and the pang in his heart. "Yeah. I must've lost track of time," he laughed. He took Micro's cold hand. "Get home safe, dude. Don't worry your siblings—they might grow more gray hairs."
Micro didn't laugh at the joke. He simply walked away, hands in his pockets, hoodie pulled up. Thomas' smile fell. He walked away too, feeling like he had intruded on something or been too overbearing or something. God.
He shouldn't dig so much, he decided. To get Micro's favor, he would resist poking in matters that weren't his.