Disclaimer : Tales of Destiny, Lion/Emilio, Rutee, yada yada, don’t belong to me =( Sue me not.

A/N : So this supposedly was some WIP thingy that I was going to attach a StahnxLion to, but I kind of forgot about it halfway through, so tada Drabble. (Drabbles are wonderful things *swoon* they make your incomplete works complete \(*o*)/  )

—

Emilio Katrea did not know how things had come to be the way they did.

Or maybe he did, he corrected himself as he glanced at his twin sister, Rutee Katrea, who was, for once, not buzzing about like a hurricane and sitting still beside him with a calculating smile on her face.

She happened. End of argument.

“And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to welcome our most anticipated guest, the bestselling author of the year, Lion Magnus!”

Emilio hid his cringe at the deafening cheer that erupted in front of him. Rutee beamed wider, entirely unperturbed by the cacophony thanks to the invisible wad of rubber stuffed up her ears. Emilio buried his muses’ internal argument of ‘why did you refuse to wear those earbuds when she had offered them to you before the press conference’. Of course he knew why. His pride would not allow him to hide behind some plastic material while facing off some undefineable foe.

That didn’t mean that he regarded his fans as said indefineable foe of course. He amended swiftly at the thought of Rutee hearing that. It was a matter of a metaphor. Really.

—

Emilio rubbed the fluffy white towel over his dripping raven hair rigorously. Once he had sufficiently dried himself of the remainder of his shower, he sat at his writing desk and tacked his glasses on his nose. Seeing the one romance novel that he both loved and hated writing sitting on his table, he was reminded of the questions spilling from the MC at the press conference.

‘Mr Magnus, as we understand, you were previously an established writer of the detective genre. What prompted you write Twittering Dove, a romance novel?’

‘Should we be expecting a sequel to Twittering Dove?’

A sequel. Emilio snorted. Rutee would be elated. Who was she, a mere mortal, to deny his poor deluded fans their precious chance to shower more money on them?

Himself, Emilio was not so sure. Twittering Dove was… a part of his soul he never meant to release to the world. Had things gone the way he had planned, it wouldn’t even have a name, much less a price tag to go with it.

Alas, what was done was done. Rutee had managed to get her money-magicking pa-hands on his first draft, and proceeded to plead, bribe and blackmail the final draft out of his hands. (Mind that wasn’t an easy task, but she wasn’t his twin for nothing.) By then, twenty-fours years worth of experience at dealing with Rutee had pulled Emilio aside and told him that there was an absolute zero chance of stopping her from publishing the book.

Might as well ride the boat to hell with her than be dragged along the River Styx, kicking and screaming. Emilio decided.

Thus the birth of Twittering Dove.

Now, Emilio figured it was as good a time as any to start drafting this sequel to Twittering Dove. Lord knows when Rutee would come through the door and do her managery thing. Emilio shuddered. It was not the best way to welcome your favourite twin who was the source of at least half of your general income, but definitely the best method to squeeze all the money-making ability out of him. Thoroughly.

Emilio could almost see the last few months of living in terror of her appearance. Not that he would ever admit to being traumatized. Maybe sufficiently intimidated into pouring the rest of his soul in paragraphs and paragraphs of words. But traumatized…

He had a head start now though. Emilio reassured himself determinedly. Albeit not by a long shot, but enough of a head start to keep his demonic sibling from her hunt for a while.

What to do for it though? Emilio mused.