Day 1 Breakfast: Mark's Twinsister Chloe is...

The kitchen was quiet except for the scraping of my fork against the plate. Across the table sat my twin sister, Chloe. We had both turned eighteen last week, but our household had always been defined by a heavy, unspoken tension.

Our father had been an absolute nightmare—a toxic, selfish man whose behavior ran so deep that after his passing when we were young, our mother, Elena, swore off men entirely. Unfortunately for me, as I grew up, my features began to perfectly mirror his. By all means he was a very good looking man so i should not be too bad off look wise, but because of that resemblance, Elena my own mother could barely stand to look at me. She projected all her lingering bitterness onto me, and Chloe over the years closely mirrored our mother's disgust, treating me like an outsider in my own home. Elena herself was a striking presence; despite having eighteen-year-old twins, she looked remarkably youthful, easily passing for under thirty. She possessed full breasts, a lean, narrow-waisted frame and a sharp, commanding appearance—traits that Chloe had fully inherited, along with her fierce, independent attitude.

Today, however, the usual hostility from Chloe was entirely absent. Chloe was completely passive, staring blankly ahead as she mechanically sucked on a cherry lollipop.
Looking closer, the sudden, unusual physical shifts made the situation clear:

The Silhouette: Her proportions looked subtly but distinctly altered, showing a sudden, noticeable growth in her chest and buttocks that hadn't been there yesterday.

The Saliva: A thin, steady trickle of drool escaped the corner of her mouth from an obvious increase in saliva secretion.

The Focus: Her glassy eyes were fixed entirely on me, completely devoid of her usual sharp glare.

The puzzle pieces clicked into place as I recalled the broadcasts about the Lesbian Retrovirus. This was textbook Day One. The virus was known to rapidly alter its hosts' anatomy while flooding their systems with an overwhelming spike in libido. More dangerously, it forced infected individuals to fixate entirely on the person they detested most. Looking at Chloe's flushed, vacant expression as she stared across the table, I realized with a surge of panic exactly who she was fantasizing about and that sent something else surge into attention between my pants.
The quiet hostility of our household was shifting into something entirely unpredictable.