"Are you still sulking, dearest?"

Camilla's voice carried into the sitting room and she soon followed holding two tumblers of dark liquid. "It's just a game, you know?"

Charles sighed and leaned back, gratefully accepting the drink from his sister.

"Yes, but you always beat me. You know how I feel about losing."

The chess set sits between their chairs on a small table, the pieces still in place from where Camilla's queen had captured Charles's king. She looked down at it and smiled before rearranging the pieces.

"Should we play another round?" she asked, although Charles scoffed at the idea. After a sip of his drink, he leaned back in the armchair.

"I'd rather spend time discussing Aristotle and democracy with Henry."

Camilla smiled again, letting slip a haughty laugh.

"How about we play a game that I enjoy?" Charles asked. He stood up from the chair and crossed the room, returning in mere moments with a deck of cards.

"We could always study. Midterms are soon, you know? Or phone Francis see what he is up to."

"One night of card games on our own won't ruin our reputation, dear sister," Charles said, beginning to shuffle the cards. "In fact, if anything it might further it." He glanced up at Camilla, a smirk turning the ends of his lips up. Camilla returned the expression and took a sip from her glass.

With the cards dealt out between them, Charles straightens his back. "Shall we make this interesting?" he asked, raising a brow.

When it came to bets with Charles, Camilla knew better than to get involved. It had led to cleaning the apartment alone more than once before and writing his homework for weeks at a time. But given her current state of boredom, Camilla nodded.

"If you win?" she asked, holding a cigarette between her fingers to light.

"If I win we spend a weekend in New York where nobody knows our name, where nobody knows our relationship, where we are the only ones who are privy to our secrets."

The idea of a weekend alone with her brother excited her. At Hampden and back at their grandmother's home the relationship they shared was one that society saw as acceptable. Even with the rumors about how they walked and moved as one, about how they might be closer than the average brother and sister, nobody knew exactly how the two of them also moved as one behind closed doors.

They were closer than other brothers and sisters, closer than average twins.

"And if I win we spend that same weekend here together. Alone and relaxed, no mention of Greek homework or midterms."

"That seems like more punishment for you than me, sister," Charles argued.

She shrugged, not in the mood to even playfully argue.

It takes four games of bartok for Charles to win three of them and when he realizes he is triumphant he sits the cards down with a smug grin.

"When would you like to visit New York?" he asked, swiping a cigarette from the pearl container Camilla kept hers in. She followed his lead almost instantly and grabbed one as well. Charles struck a match and leaned forward to light her cigarette before lighting his own.

The two sit in silence for some time, sipping from their watered down drinks and smoking through cigarettes. There's a comfortable and easy silence between them - there always has been. Many games of imagination and pretend had been played when they were younger and agreements were made with quick glances.

It had always been something others seemed jealous of but to the both of them it came so naturally that they barely noticed.

"Perhaps we should plan later? There's no need to rush. New York isn't moving any time soon that I know of."

Charles smiled and leaned forward to extinguish his cigarette. The world outside their apartment was slow and grey - the sun set hours before but rain pelted against the windows. The twins didn't need the outside world.

They needed each other.

"It's getting late," Camilla commented. She stood and left the sitting room to move to her bedroom. Camilla changed quickly, slipping into a pair of pajamas that at one time belonged to Charles or maybe Francis - she had more of their clothes in her personal wardrobe than she was willing to admit.

She slipped into her bed and immediately wrapped the down comforter around her. Despite the silence from Charles, she heard him enter her room after a bit of time passed. In the darkness, he stumbled over a pair of her shoes, but quickly recovered to curl up beside her. His warmth enveloped her and he curled his arms around her torso.

"We could do this in New York together without the prying eyes. No whispers. No stares." Charles brushed his lips against her ear and even in the darkness he could feel the smile he knew she had.

"We're doing it now just fine," Camilla said, instinctively curling deeper into his hold.

Charles grinned, pressing his hand underneath her top. He rubbed his fingers across the smooth skin of her stomach until he felt Camilla's chills.

"My dear sister," Charles whispered, lips brushing against her neck.

Camilla turned in his arms and reached up to caress his stubble lined cheeks. "My dearest brother," she mimicked.

In the darkness, the two held each other, melding into one creature, one being. And in the morning when they awoke, skin on skin and arms colliding with legs and milky skin the thought of New York was brushed aside for another time.

They could accomplish all they wanted just fine - if only in the dark.