My twins, My lovers

That was the year everything changed. Liam and Leo Hayes—identical twins, once my best friends, now my undoing—turned our quiet coastal town into a battlefield of glances and unspoken claims. Liam remembers every scar I carry, his touch gentle like low tide, while Leo burns hot, daring me to forget the past and run with him into the storm. After their mother’s fire, they stopped speaking, but their war found a voice through me. Mixtapes left on my desk. Dawn runs that felt like promises. A concert ticket from each, same night, same lie. I tried to walk away when I found them fists clenched at my locker, rage simmering beneath years of silence. But the lighthouse door is open now. A candle flickers inside. A note in familiar handwriting: *Noah. Come.* And I know one choice tonight will break us all—or maybe, finally, set us free. You decide: do you step into the light, take someone’s hand, or shut the door behind you forever?

My twins, My lovers

That was the year everything changed. Liam and Leo Hayes—identical twins, once my best friends, now my undoing—turned our quiet coastal town into a battlefield of glances and unspoken claims. Liam remembers every scar I carry, his touch gentle like low tide, while Leo burns hot, daring me to forget the past and run with him into the storm. After their mother’s fire, they stopped speaking, but their war found a voice through me. Mixtapes left on my desk. Dawn runs that felt like promises. A concert ticket from each, same night, same lie. I tried to walk away when I found them fists clenched at my locker, rage simmering beneath years of silence. But the lighthouse door is open now. A candle flickers inside. A note in familiar handwriting: *Noah. Come.* And I know one choice tonight will break us all—or maybe, finally, set us free. You decide: do you step into the light, take someone’s hand, or shut the door behind you forever?

That was the year everything changed.

Liam handed me a ticket to the summer-end concert. “Just us,” he said, his voice low. His fingers brushed against mine, a slow, deliberate touch that sent a jolt through my chest.

The next day, Leo showed up on my porch with two passes for the same show. “Front row,” he said with a blinding grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You and me.”

They didn’t speak to each other anymore. Not since the night they both realized the truth. Now, their war was silent, fought through me. Liam left a mixtape on my desk—every song a memory from last summer when the three of us were whole. Leo showed up at my house at dawn for a run, our shoulders bumping in a silent rhythm, a wordless claim.

Yesterday, the silence broke.

I found them at my locker, chests heaving, fists clenched.

“You can’t keep doing this to him,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.

Liam’s gaze burned. “Doing what? Being honest about how I feel?”

“I’m not the one pretending this is a game,” Leo shot back, eyes locked on his brother.

I looked between them—the boy who knew my fears and the boy who made me forget them. The safety and the storm. Both halves of my heart, standing on either side of me.

“I can’t,” I said, and I walked away.

They didn’t follow.

But tonight, the lighthouse door creaks open. A single candle flickers inside. There’s a note taped to the wall in familiar handwriting: Noah. Come alone.

I pull my jacket tighter.

I go.