Brothers

#12

The trio were watching a questionnaire game show one quite evening.
Rain fell down outside, while they remained dry and warm in doors.

Broken sat in the middle of the couch as always,
trying to discreetly ward off the attempted holds of each brother.
Tom had disappeared a little while ago to hang up the framed completed puzzles that Brooke had done in her time trapped in the apartment.
She framed her better looking puzzles to decorate the room given to her. She was determined to make that space as comfortable as she could for herself.

Originally she was just leaning them against the side of the wall after her shelf had run out of space before Tom offered to hang the pictures on the wall for her. A kind gesture from a man who left her hanging from the ceiling.

Now just her and Cillian sat together on the couch.

"'What year did Nelson Mandela get elected?"
"1994" cillian answered with ease,
"last day of school, that was"
The question sparked one of brookes own, "how old are you?"

Cillian smiles, "I was born in 1976".

Brooke tries to calculate the equation in her head
but math was never one of her strong suits.
"36?"
"44" he corrects.
"And Tom?"
"43"

Brooke felt stunned by the wide age gap. They were adult men and brooke was only a young women.

"You know I am only 22. That's double my age"

Darkness clouded his eyes, something brooke has
come to know as a warning signal.

"Yes, unlike some people I graduated third grade
math'

"I'll be 40, when you are 62. What happens to me
when you die" brooke begins to panic. The future
doesn't seem too far off. She could image herself
locked inside forever. Dying of starvation, a rotten corpse next to her, people shouting from the other side of the door that it's impossible to get through.
Her next train of thought offered another
possibility.

"Will I still be alive when I am 40?"
"God, you talk some rubbish" Cillian shot back, his body shifting with irritation.

"Or will you have upgraded to the new and
improved kidnapped women as soon as I hit the
undesirable age?"

Her volume was close to a shout and perhaps if she wasn't so anxiety ridden from the possibilities, it would have been.
It was still enough, however, to draw toms attention away from his task.
With great strides Tom reaches the lounge room at the same moment that Cillian responds.

"Do you think yourself so pretty?"
"Cil" Tom
"No, no" cillian insists, "do you?"
"I never said I was"
"You think us desperate then? Incapable of getting our dicks wet?"
"Perhaps"

Tom gently circles his hands around Brooke's shoulders.
"Just go to the bedroom for me, would you, love" he begs.

She goes to hide in the back room as requested but cillian hand gripped itself to her own.

"Are you stupid? Are you blind? Do you not see the gems in your jewellery box. Do we not feed you, clothe you, give you our devotion, our time, our money?"

"Who asked you for it?"

"There are plenty of prettier women out there, Brooke. Less troublesome too. I won't be accused of unfaithfulness again"

"Mate, she didn't mean it like that" Tom tries to buffer the agreement out but this time Brooke felt her own fire burning uncontrollably within her.

"I wouldn't care if you fucked half the city. Be as unfaithful as you like! But let me go!