Page 5 of Echoes of Desire
I’m dreaming, but I don’t know if it’s the best dream I’ve ever had or if it’s a nightmare. Two men, who I think are twins, took me out on a date at the same time. Okay, it’s not a date. They saved me. But, let me think what I want to think.
“Are you twins?” I ask as I pick at my food.
When they don’t answer, I look up and pay close attention to the expressions on their faces.
“We’re nearly one hundred percent identical,” the one beside me says. Blaze/Jaxon is his name. “Can you not tell?”
“No,” I admit, not really wanting to explain why.
“And why not?” The one across from me says. Steel/Jasper. I wonder which names they would prefer to be called.
“Do you prefer your nicknames or your real names?” I ask instead of answering.
“Everyone calls us by our road names,” Blaze/Jaxon says.
“But you will call us by our given names,” Steel/Jasper finishes. “Now, answer the question, please.”
Sighing, I place my fork down and take a deep drink of water. I hate explaining this to people. They look at me like I’m a freak. It’s not like I’m going to ever see these men again, but I wantedto at least leave a good impression on them when I left. I want to be remembered for me and not because of what I have.
“I have face blindness,” I admit. “Even if you weren’t identical twins, I wouldn’t be able to tell you apart if my life depended on it. Well, unless I knew you better, of course.”
“Face blindness?” Jaxon asks.
“Please, explain,” Jasper says, pushing his food to the side and giving me his undivided attention.
“It’s a medical condition called Prosopagnosia,” I start, feeling my shoulders tighten under the weight of their undivided attention. “Basically, it means I can’t recognize faces. Not even my own. I rely on other things, like voices, body language, or context clues to tell people apart.”
Blaze, or Jaxon, I suppose, leans back in the booth, his expression a mix of curiosity and something I can’t quite place. “You can’t even recognize yourself? Like, in a mirror?”
I shake my head. “Not without focusing on specific details, like my hair or this dark freckle on my cheek. If I changed something about my appearance, like cutting my hair or wearing different makeup, I probably wouldn’t recognize myself right away.”
Jasper studies me, his eyes sharp and focused. His intensity is almost unnerving, as if he’s filing away every word I say. “How long have you had this?”
“Forever,” I say with a shrug. “It’s something you’re born with. I didn’t even realize I had it until I was a teenager. I just thought everyone had a hard time remembering faces.”
Jaxon tilts his head, his easy grin slipping into something softer. “That sounds… isolating.”
I force a small smile, trying to brush off the vulnerability creeping in. “It can be, but I manage. Most people don’t even notice unless I tell them.”
“Why tell us?” Jasper asks, his voice low and even.
“Because you asked,” I say simply, meeting his gaze. “And because I figured you wouldn’t let it go until I did.”
His lips twitch, almost like he’s fighting a smile. “Smart.”
“So, if you can’t recognize our faces, then how will you know if we ever meet again?” Jaxon asks.
I ignore the sadness as it creeps into my heart.
“I won’t,” I admit softly. “Well, unless you talk. I’m pretty good at remembering voices, but only after having heard that voice for a very long time. So, maybe not even then.”
“Even identical twins with identical voices?” Jaxon asks.
Smiling, I look down at my hands.
“You may be identical in every way that normal people consider, but I would have never known had I not asked,” I admit. “You have a soft voice filled with warmth,” I say, glancing up at Jaxon. “It’s... inviting. Like you’re always ready to laugh, or like you want people to feel safe around you.”
Jaxon’s grin grows, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “And my brother?”