Brothers

#10

When Brooke awoke the absence of the two men next to her on the bed, startled her.
Normally, she was woken not long after the first brother. But today they had left her to sleep in without them. She feared what that now meant.

She scrambled out of bed eager to see what awaited her today. She wouldn't be surprised if she was now in trouble for not magically waking at the feeling of abandonment.
She takes her dressing grown off the ottoman at the end of the bed and ties it around her, covering what her small night dress could not.

With bare feet she wonders down the corridor. Mind buzzing with excuses and there protectional outcomes. She considered acting like she cared they left her. Beating them to the anger might save her skin.

Brooke readied her face with a harsh look, squaring her shoulders in an effort to appear upset. She was ready to be faced with a similar disposition from the brothers but when she reached the end of the hall, a string of a ballon softened her facial expression.

The whole room ceiling was covered with pink and white balloons attached to long string. Streamers were twisted along the wall in a pattern of loops, and a giant sign in glittery sliver read HAPPY BIRTHDAY in bold letters.

It felt too much like a dream. She was almost sure she wasn't really there.

Tom was in the kitchen, fiddling with his coffee machine while Cillian sat with a book in the couch.

"Hey, there's the birthday girl" tom greets.
"Birthday?" It couldn't be true.
"23 today. How's that feel?".
Tom asks over the whirring of the coffee machine,
"Getting old now"

"And how old am I allowed to get before I am chopped into little pieces and carried out in a box?"

"No, no" Cillian calls, now entering into the kitchen as a participant rather then bystander, "none of that today. Today is a special day".

Cillian runs his hands down Brooke's arms, down to her hands and holding them.
"And how do you want to start your special day? Cake for breakfast?"

Brooke thinks about this request.

"I want to call my sister"
"No" Cillian responds. He drops her hands by her side.
"Just to let her know I am alright"
Cillian snorts at the prospect, smiling as if it was funny.

Brooke felt a rage she didn't know was bubbling beneath the surface. It was fast and hot. Surging through her before she could catch it. It lashed out at Cillian, her fists clawing and punching at his hunched figure.

He doesn't defend himself, only guards his face best he could with his hands. The smile no longer lingering. One thing she had grown to like about Cillian was he accepted when he is in the wrong.

Tom, however, saw his brother in a subhuman light in which Cillian could do no wrong, and thus, deserved no punishment.

She was torn off him and thrown to the ground before she could do any real damage. Although, she had managed to leave a red cut on his check from her finger nails. A superficial wound that would heal within days, but the satisfaction would sustain brooke for months.

"Have you lost your mind?" Tom questions slowly. A sign that he was beyond the stage of anger.

"I have done everything you have asked of me since I've got here. I deserve a phone call to my sister. One fucking two minute phone call"

Tom points to Cillian, "look at what you've done, and you tell me what you're deserving of"

"You tell me what you're deserving of" she bites back.