Left foot. Pause a beat. Right foot. Another beat. Then the left again - but Ella had to hastily shift her foot inward, closer in line with the other, changing her gate, making her hips swing ever so slightly as she walked. For a moment, she had it.
Then, Ella tripped.
It was only Natasha's arm, draped around her shoulder, that kept her from sprawling across the ground. Ella turned to her, face already searing with the deepest, most biting shame, and was met with a crooked, shit-eating grin that made her spine shiver.
"Careful there, doll," Natasha drawled. "Everyone's watching. You don't want to stand out too much from Emma, do you?"
The comment cut right through Ella, and left her trembling with its cruel force. Stand out. That was the very, very last thing she wanted. The very idea was intolerable.
She was a reflection. Her twin sister's reflection. Nothing less, and nothing more.
But it was so hard. As the three of them walked together - Ella, her sister Emma, and Natasha, their girlfriend - imitating Emma took all of Ella's concentration. She'd never had to focus so hard on the simple act of walking. It was strange; Ella's body seemed so insistently wrong for all the ways Emma moved. Her limbs were ungainly, her shoulders too wide, her curves too slight. She was struggling so very much with the one-inch heels Emma had given her. It was as if Ella had never worn heels before in her life. It pained her that she was unable to handle the four-inch high heels Emma was sporting - although in some ways, that was a kindness. Thanks to that one disparity, however unforgivable, the two of them at least stood at the same height.
"No," Ella said in a small voice, as Natasha stared expectantly at her. "O-of course not."
More shame. Ella cringed at herself and glanced at the ground as she heard her voice crack and dip into the deep register that came so naturally to her, buzzing in her chest rather than her head, making her words come out low and flat instead of high and bright. Speaking like Emma was something else that did not come naturally.
Why? Why did Ella have to be such a flawed reflection?
"Hm." Natasha took a moment to leer at Ella, a creepy, sadistic light in her eyes. "Let's get a move on. We're almost there."
Emma nodded obediently - and because of that, so did Ella. Both of them fell in next to Natasha, pressed up to her side, and they started walking again.
Left foot. Beat. Right foot. Hips. Small steps.
It wasn't quite true that everyone was watching, but the three of them certainly did make a distinctive trio as they walked down the street. Emma and Ella were conspicuous in their similarity; their faces, their hair, and their makeup were uncanny. Even their clothes were as close as could be, the leggings and hoodies carefully picked out from Emma's wardrobe for that very reason. Twin sisters were always bound to attract attention, Ella supposed, especially when they seemed to be trying to erase their individuality rather than emphasize it.
But really, it was Natasha's presence that made the three stand out so much. The tall, lanky trans woman stood between the twins, walking with a languid, bent-over posture, her arms draped over each of their shoulders in a manner that was unmistakably possessive. Ella and Emma were both pressed to her side, looking up at her with expressions of fawning eagerness on their faces that were an ill match for the creepy, leering grin on Natasha's.
A very tall woman with two identical twins for girlfriends, walking through the mall? Now that was a spectacle.
Girlfriend. That word sat strangely with Ella. She was... Natasha's girlfriend? That seemed to make little sense. After all, she thought Natasha was creepy. She'd come to town specifically because she wanted to make sure nothing was amiss with Emma, given her newfound lesbianism.
Ella broke step for a split second. She felt like she'd just stumbled on something important. Something that made her feel more like herself, paradoxically. Something she needed to hold on to. Yes, she'd come visiting because she'd been harboring suspicions about Emma's new girlfriend-
There it was. The reason.
Natasha was Emma's girlfriend. Ella was Emma's reflection. Therefore, Natasha was Ella's girlfriend too.
It just wouldn't make sense otherwise.
Ella slipped back into rhythm. What was it that had seemed so important? The half-formed thought was already gone.
She was Natasha's girlfriend - just like Emma. It was obvious. Maybe it was unfortunate, having to date a woman who set alarm bells ringing in her head. But that was just the way it had to be.
The cost of being a good, identical, twin sister.
"Here we are," Emma announced. The three of them came to a halt, and Ella turned to look at their destination.
A women's clothing store.
Ella shivered.
"I'm so excited!" Natasha said gleefully. Her tone of voice spoke of an unhealthy interest. "You two are going to look amazing together."
Ella blushed again. The prospect made her uncomfortably eager.
Natasha quickly led them inside, and all three of them started moving through the rows of clothes, pausing now and then as something caught Natasha or Emma's eye. If they agreed, they would hold up the garment to Ella, so that Emma could see how it might look on herself. It was as if she was using Ella as a mirror.
And nothing could have made Ella happier. Every time they turned to Ella, she held as still as she could, turning ever so slightly this way or that to match Emma's posture. As uncomfortable as she felt with Natasha's machinations, this was exactly the feeling she craved. This was the need that had been written into her being.
A mirror. A reflection. Nothing more.
Even so, as Natasha and Emma dashed from rack to rack, gushing over their finds, Ella found herself hanging back. She still showed enthusiasm - at least, whenever Emma did - but she couldn't help noting the way that Natasha seemed to be gravitating towards dresses most of all. That filled Ella with trepidation. To her, dresses felt like foreign objects. It was as if she'd never worn one before - which was strange, for a woman, she figured, but maybe not that strange.
After all, Emma had always been something of a tomboy. She didn't usually wear dresses. So, why would Ella have?
Now, though, she seemed keener on them. Practically every time she came upon a dress, she turned to look at Ella with an expression of overbearing glee on her face.
"Hey," Emma said conspiratorially to Natasha, as she plucked yet another dress from the rack. "What about this one?"
It was a blue, frilly, short number that made Ella shiver just from looking at it. Natasha gave an unpleasant laugh.
"Wow, look at you," she teased. "I didn't think you'd be so keen to play dolly dress-up with your darling 'sissy' - but look at you."
Both of them giggled at the double entendre - and Emma turned a deep red, squirming as she did.
"It's..." she stammered. "It's just..."
"Hot?" Natasha seized. "Pervert."
Emma squirmed again. She looked desperately embarrassed, but the way her blush kept deepening made it clear that her embarrassment too was a source of pleasure.
