Brothers

#7

"Brooke?" Cillian clicks in her face twice., gaining her attention.

Once she turns her attention to him, he repeats his question, "are you hungry?"
She shakes her head no, but it wasn't the acceptable answer.

"Close mouths don't get fed, brooke" Tom states,
"now that you are here if you want something you
have to let us know"
"I want to go to bed"
"Why don't you get ready for bed. We'll have an
early dinner and an early night. It will do us all
some good" Cillian consoles.

She does as he asks. Happily removing herself from
their presence and into the safety of the bedroom.

She dresses slowly. Among all the clothes, she
seemed to have an overabundance of nightwear.
She inspects then all, mostly they looked straight
out of a magazine, and brooke couldn't image
wearing them on a daily basis. However, they
where one or two that suited her more simple taste, picking out long cotton white pants with light blue
strips and a long purple top.

Having dressed she suddenly felt her knees give out beneath her, now that she was no longer distracted by her menial task.

Her tears return so does her shallow breathing. Her ears ring and her mind buzzes as she makes her way to the floor. Just what has she gotten herself into.

She turns to view the full height of Tom standing in the door way of the cupboard.

"What are you doing on the floor?" He asks.
"Come on, let's get you up" he holds out his hands
for brooke to pull herself up with, but she refuses it. Remaining on the comfort of the floor.

He positions himself over her, gripping her shoulders and pull her up.

"Tom" she cry's as he did.

He pulls her to his chest, one hand going to the back of her neck to keep her there as she cried.

"Yeah, I know" was all he said.

"Why" she hiccups, "why would he do that"

"She alright. Tim never kills 'em. It's not his job"

It wasn't the point, but she didn't bother to try and explain that.

"Here, now" he pulls her away from his shoulder, using his thumbs to run under her eyes and dry her tears, "we've got to be strong now, don't we. Come on, wipe your tears"

She does as he asks,

"He won't like it if he see you're still crying"

"Who gives a fuck what he likes" she bites.

His thumbs return under her eyes, "you do. I'd wager that it's about the only thing you'll ever care about again"

His green eyes meet her, and she felt frozen in her spot. He made it abundantly clear that he wasn't going to be on her side.

"Let's go, hey, baby. Get something to eat"

One of his arms warp itself around brookes
shoulders, the other goes up, his finger and his
thumb press against his lips, dragging them across
and then down along his chin.

The couple reach the end of the hall, stepping into
the light.
Brooke walks to the dinner table with the help of
toms arm guiding her.

"You know we haven't eaten all of our meals
together since we were kids" Tom addresses Cillian.

"No? Well, this is certainly better then mums
cooking" he slides two menus over the table, Tom
only picks up one choosing to share with brooke
rather then individually look Over the menu.