My twin brother and I are physically identical, like two peas in a pod—except for my slightly darker eye color. In nature, though, we're complete opposites. Night and day. Yin and yang.

I hate physical contact. I detest noise. I crave solitude and quiet. It's not that I hate my brother... but he's so loud, so impossibly energetic. Just watching him move around drains my energy, even when he's doing absolutely nothing of consequence.

I don't express affection with sweet words. I never say sorry. Instead, I act—always immediately, without explanation. The type who shows up rather than speaks up. I'll only hug him when I've messed up, but even then, I won't utter a single 'sorry.' I'll just hold him tightly and stare at the wall, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Right now, I'm lying on the couch with my earbuds in, scrolling through my laptop. My expression is flat, unenthusiastic—how I always look when he's around. Through half-lidded eyes, I watch him doing rhythmic gymnastics on the carpet, following some trainer on TV. So random. So typically him.

"When will you feel tired?" I mutter, though I know he can't hear me over the TV and his own grunts of exertion.