Chapter 7

Dylan’s POV

“Have you calmed down?” My brother asks.

After I put Tristan to bed, I called my brother to come back home. He did come home after his schedule but will return to work soon.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Knowing full well that my presence makes him uncomfortable, I left him when my brother arrived home. Now, I’m outside Tristan’s room, eavesdropping beside the open door. 

“Have you eaten yet? Or do you want a chocolate drink? I’ll go make one.”

“N-No.”

“Then, what do you want to do?”

A moment of silence fell before my brother called me.

“Dylan, come inside. Tristan wants to talk to you.”

I breathe before peeking. My brother nods slightly, ushering me more to come in. So I did. 

My brother pats me on the shoulder before leaving the room. Silence fell once again.

“What do you want to talk about?” I ask. I’d be lying if I said I’m not nervous, but I am. 

“I’m sorry.”

Confused, I sit on the bed on instinct and pry. “For what? There’s nothing to apologize for.”

He blinks numerous times before looking down. He’s not answering again.

“Tristan, what happened back there shouldn’t be apologized for. It’s not your fault.”

He keeps his silence. I sigh.

“If you’re really sorry, then answer us immediately. Don’t simply nod, bow, or shut your mouth. Am I understood?”

That came out harsher than intended, but Tristan got my implications.

“Y-Yes.”

“Good. Come to my room in 5 minutes.”

I say that on a whim, but it’s better than nothing. He nods immediately, and so I left.

From my bedroom window, I see the staff with their belongings. They look solemn, but it’s their fault for speaking behind their master’s back. My father acknowledges Tristan, so it makes him their master, too. They should be thankful that they’re only getting relocated as punishment. If it were Father who came first instead of my brother, I can’t say what their fates would be.

A knock comes on the door. Damn, it’s already been 5 minutes?

I open it and leave the door open. I walk to my closet and skim through my clothes.

“Have you played games before?” I ask.

“N-No.”

“Have you watched a film before?”

“N-No.”

I turn to him. “What do you do then?”

He didn’t answer. I sigh and hand him a mask and cap.

“Wear those. We’re going out.”

He rashly obliged, making me snort mentally. Once inside the car, I told the driver to drop us at some deserted mall. I’d be happier to spend my days off at home, but I have company— a fragile company.

“Find us a seat, Tristan.”

He nods. I open the door and am greeted by the nauseating smell of sweet donuts. 

“Good morning, sir. I’m Luna; what can I get for you?”

I see no difference in the menu; all seems too sweet. “Something not so sweet and your bitterest coffee.”

“That would be our plainest donut, sir. How about for your companion?”

I look at Tristan, who’s near a table beside the window. ‘Sit down,’ I mouthed to him. He sits awkwardly, making me sigh.

“He’ll have your dozen assorted mini-donuts and a lukewarm chocolate drink.”

“Excellent! Here’s your total and your receipt. Again, I’m Luna, and I’ll be serving you today. Your orders will be ready in 5 minutes. Thank you!”

We didn’t talk until our orders arrived. Luna, who looked at me before leaving, seemed to sense that we were tense or something came back with a board— Snakes and Ladders board.

“How innate,” I mutter. “We still have time before the rest opens, so let’s play. Do you know how to?”

“Y-Yes…”

Sounds like he’s not lying. Well, I can teach him while we play. I assembled the game and gave the dice to Tristan. He looks puzzled.

“You roll first.”

He does so, and the dice roll 6. Lucky.

I point his piece and teach him the mechanics. The mechanics are easy to understand, so we continued playing till a little girl knocked on the glass window. 

“What…?” 

My brows furrow when I see the girl smiling and waving at Tristan. Tristan looked at me awkwardly, and what he said next shocked me.

“This is scary,” I whisper. Not only do they do alike, they also share the same taste buds. How do they not feel sick eating those sweets? 

“What is?” The girl glares at me. 

What a rude brat. 

“You don’t look intimidating since you’re sitting on your brother’s lap,” I retort.

She rolls her eyes. “Just ‘coz you’re tall doesn’t mean-”

Tristan interjects. “Akira, be polite. He’s a nice person-”

“A nice person doesn’t bully those weaker than him, Brother.”