'F' Is for Forbidden

The rest of the week went by fleetingly. I didn't participate much in class, as usual, nor did I have to mention progress in my studies to my parents. Luckily for us kids, they both had planned business trips at the same time (Lanzarote for my mom, Belize for my dad) and we were left to fend for ourselves.

Which, most teenager would revel in, I suppose, thrilled at the idea of having a full mansion almost to themselves. They would have dinner at whatever time they wished, wouldn't have to worry about their parents checking to see if they were indeed studying, and could watched all the R-rated films they'd been forbidden to witness.

But that's the thing... I'm not like other kids.

I liked it when my parents were home. Exchanging stories, getting caught up in the latest news of their firms... even attending boring old parties.

Whenever they were home together, bickering or not, it helped me remember that I wasn't as alone as I thought. I was surrounded by love.

I was reading further into Lolita (yes, I truly was studying while my parents were away. Oh, the bad habits I get up to in their absence) when there was a soft rap on my door. I was fairly far in to it at this point that the intrusion seemed deliberate.

"Come in."

I'd narrowed down the possibilities of who it could possibly be before I raised my head. There were only three options: Dellos, Nora or the cook, Sabine. Sabine usually only ever came to my quarters if I was listening to my earphones and I couldn't hear her call over the noise.

So, a process of elimination was done. The second way I'd narrow it down is by the heaviness of the knock. I came to a quick realization that it had been swift, yet light enough that the person on the other side wasn't furious with me.

It had to be my brother.

Correct and, as I looked up, he appeared. He welcomed himself inside my room, sitting by the edge of my bed and untucking my legs from under me so they were lying across his lap.

This was something he always did when he came in here. He'd massage my feet and ankles as we conversed.

"Can I talk to you?"

I raised an eyebrow in question, carefully placing down my book.

Dellos's features had become soft, almost baby-like as he explored the endless possibilities to put his thoughts into words. His green eyes looked dark in the undertones of the room, an omen to what he was trying to say.

He paced his breathing, as well as turning his focus to objects that surrounded us, whether it was the Hello Kitty alarm clock by the window or my Flyleaf poster that hung by the far east wall. He always found somewhere to dwell.

"Dellos...?"

"About what you saw at the pool with Nora, I never..." He rubbed his lips together, a frown starting to crease at the corners of his mouth as he watched my face develop into a frenzy of emotions. "I knew you were spying on us and I'm well-aware of the torch she holds for me..."

"Then why would you encourage her?" I folded my arms over my chest, feeling truly like the child I was presenting myself out to be.

He blinked continuously for a few seconds.

"I-I don't know. I guess I thought it was cute." When he could predict the pot being stirred again, he jumped back on it. "I don't mean to lead her on, or anyone. Nothing could ever come of us, I am enforcing that right now. You don't have to worry."

Breathing out, I gave him a small smile, as he leaned into me. His lips pressed softly to my forehead, lingering for a second before he arose from the bed.

The moment was perfect, another bonding moment for us to add to the list.

So, of course, I naturally had to screw that up.

"Wait!" I called back out to him.

I'd never felt uncomfortable around Dellos before. If anything, he was the one person in this world who'd continuously made me feel safe. Growing up, he'd protected me from harm, nursed me back to health whenever I was ill. It was he who kissed my limbs whenever I had a "booboo" and cured it with his magic healing abilities.

I literally had the best brother in the world. He didn't expect anything from me, nor demanded it. He was the most patient, understanding and all-round amazing person I'd ever known, or ever would. Nothing could taint his image for me.

So, why was I looking for something to?

His eyes were dark, worried, as they examined me head to toe. The thing about my brother was: he was good at reading people. He knew I was looking for an excuse.

He laughed again.

"Don't fret, pet, I'm not going anywhere." Winking, he left the room.

Sinking back down onto my mattress, the story of Lolita had to pause for a few more hours. As I gathered my thoughts, staring at the ceiling.

I kept asking myself: why did Nora like my brother?

It turned out the answer was more obvious than even I could perceive.

Because, the truth was... who didn't?