Angel was sitting on the bench that rested against the neighbour's adjourning wall. Lucien sat beside him, holding his hand, talking to him, and Jackson was to standing to his left, nodding at whatever was being said.

Ronan waddled forward, the conversation dying upon his approach.

"Ohw Nug," Ronan gasped, his hands jumping up to cup his mouth. "Anwul, dat huwt?" He pointed towards the deep split against his lip. It was angry and red, and tissue was being held around it, the sheet crimson.

Those dark eyes lifted, settling on him before jumping behind him. Angel's nostrils flared for a second as they landed on his twin, but he...