The late afternoon sun filtered through the cracked blinds of the twins’ shared bedroom, casting lazy stripes of light across Iza’s sprawled form on her bed. She was propped up on one elbow, flipping through a dog-eared punk rock magazine, the pages filled with grainy photos of leather-clad rebels and neon-haired screamers. But her eyes weren’t really on the smudged ink or the bold headlines about anarchy and rebellion. No, her mind was elsewhere, tangled in thoughts she knew she shouldn’t entertain—thoughts of Kasia. Her twin. Her mirror image, yet so infuriatingly different. Those thoughts made her stomach twist in a way that was both delicious and dangerous, like sneaking a sip of cheap vodka at a party you weren’t supposed to be at.
The distant hiss of the shower starting up snapped Iza out of her spiraling daydreams. She tossed the magazine aside, her pierced eyebrow quirking as a smirk tugged at her lips. Kasia was in there, just on the other side of the thin wall that separated their bedroom from the cramped, perpetually damp bathroom they shared. The family home wasn’t exactly a palace—every room felt like it was closing in on you, especially this one, with its foggy mirror that never quite cleared and the showerhead that dripped like a broken metronome. But right now, that closeness felt like an invitation.
Iza rolled off the bed with the grace of a cat who knew exactly what trouble it was about to get into. Her black combat boots thudded softly against the worn carpet as she crept toward the bathroom door, her heart already picking up speed. She told herself it was just curiosity. Just a peek. Nothing serious. But the heat creeping up her neck told a different story. She pressed her ear to the door first, listening to the rhythmic patter of water against tile, imagining Kasia under the spray, steam curling around her like a lover’s caress. The thought made Iza bite her lip hard enough to taste metal.
With a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure their parents were still downstairs, oblivious as ever, she turned the knob with agonizing slowness. The door creaked open just enough for her to slip her head through, the warm, humid air hitting her face like a slap. The bathroom was a haze of steam, the mirror completely fogged over, reflecting nothing but ghostly shapes. And there, behind the flimsy plastic shower curtain, was Kasia—her silhouette slender and sharp, moving with the casual confidence of someone who thought they were alone. The curtain was half-transparent, just sheer enough to hint at the curve of her hip, the line of her shoulder. Iza’s breath caught, her fingers tightening on the doorframe. She knew she should turn back, close the door, pretend this never happened. But her boots stayed rooted to the spot, her eyes drinking in every blurred detail like a parched wanderer at an oasis.
Then, as if sensing the weight of Iza’s stare, Kasia froze mid-rinse. Her head snapped toward the door, and through the steam, their eyes locked for a split second before Kasia let out a shriek that could’ve shattered glass. “What the hell?!” she yelped, yanking the curtain shut with such force that the rings screeched against the rod. Water splashed over the edge of the tub, pooling on the cracked linoleum as Kasia’s voice cut through the humid air like a knife. “Iza, you creepy perv! Are you serious right now? Get out!”
Iza stumbled back a step, her heart hammering so hard she thought it might crack a rib, but she forced a laugh, leaning casually against the doorframe as if she hadn’t just been caught red-handed. “Relax, drama queen,” she drawled, crossing her arms over her ripped band tee. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before. We shared a womb, remember? I’ve got the same equipment.”
Kasia’s head poked out from behind the curtain, her wet hair plastered to her face, hazel eyes blazing with a mix of embarrassment and fury. But there was something else there too—a flicker of amusement she couldn’t quite hide. “Oh, don’t even try that twin crap with me,” she snapped, clutching the curtain like a shield. “There’s a difference between biology and being a total weirdo who sneaks into bathrooms. What’s your deal, huh? Got nothing better to do than play Peeping Tom?”
Iza grinned, her tongue flicking over the silver ring in her lip as she tilted her head. “Maybe I was just checking to make sure you weren’t hogging all the hot water again. You know how long your showers take. I’m basically doing a public service here.”
“Public service, my ass,” Kasia shot back, though her lips twitched as if fighting a smirk. She reached out with one hand to grab a towel from the rack, keeping the curtain strategically in place. “You’re just bored out of your mind, aren’t you? Or… wait, don’t tell me you’ve got some weird voyeur kink now. Should I be worried? Lock my door at night?”
Iza’s grin widened, her voice dropping into a teasing purr as she took a daring step closer, the steam wrapping around her like a cloak. “Oh, come on, Kas. Don’t act like you’re not flattered. I mean, if I’m gonna spy on anyone, might as well be someone worth looking at, right?”
Kasia’s cheeks flared a shade of pink that had nothing to do with the hot water, and she quickly ducked back behind the curtain, muttering a string of curses under her breath. “You’re insufferable,” she hissed, though there was a laugh buried in her tone. “Seriously, Iza, get a life. Stop staring at me like I’m some kind of exhibit and go… I don’t know, flirt with someone who isn’t your sister, for starters.”
Iza chuckled, leaning her shoulder against the wall now, her eyes glinting with mischief. She knew she was treading on thin ice, but the thrill of it—the crackle of tension between them—was too intoxicating to resist. “Hey, I’m just appreciating the view. Not my fault you’re so shy about it. What, scared I’ll see something I like too much?”
There was a long pause, the only sound the steady drip of the leaky showerhead and the faint hum of the house settling around them. Then Kasia’s voice came again, quieter this time, but laced with a challenge that made Iza’s pulse spike. “You’re ridiculous. And if you don’t get out of here in the next five seconds, I’m throwing this shampoo bottle at your head. Hard.”
Iza raised her hands in mock surrender, backing toward the door with a smirk that promised this wasn’t the end of their little game. “Fine, fine, I’m going. But you know where to find me if you change your mind about an audience.” She winked, even though Kasia couldn’t see it, and slipped out of the bathroom just as a plastic bottle thudded against the door behind her.
Back in their bedroom, Iza flopped onto her bed again, her heart still racing, her skin prickling with the memory of steam and Kasia’s sharp tongue. She picked up the magazine, but her eyes didn’t focus on the pages. Instead, she stared at the wall separating them, wondering just how far she could push this—how far she *wanted* to push it. And somewhere, beneath the snark and the teasing, she knew Kasia was wondering the same thing.
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