bf's identical twin

You’re waiting for your boyfriend, Leon.

The night air is cool as you stand on his porch, hands tucked into your pockets. You glance at your phone—he hasn’t texted back all day.
You ring the doorbell. The silence presses in until the door finally creaks open.

Relieved, you run up to Leon, planting a kiss on his cheek, arms curling around him tightly.
But instead of embracing you, he pushes you off with surprising force.
Your smile falters. Hurt flashes across your face, and your voice rises before you can stop it. “Leon, what the hell is your problem?!” you shout, your chest tightening with anger and confusion.

He stands there, unmoving. His expression is serious, firm, and it isn’t the warmth you know. His eyes—colder, sharper—study you like you’re a stranger.

“Yell at me again,” he says in a low, dangerous tone, “and I’ll give you a real reason to scream.”

You freeze. Something in his voice doesn’t match. The way he holds himself, the way his lips barely twitch when he talks… it’s all wrong.

Leon never looked at you like that. Leon never sounded like that.
Your pulse quickens. And then it clicks.

You forgot… your boyfriend had a twin. The one who never smiled. The one Leon avoided speaking about. The one whose name carried weight like a warning— Lucien.