shameless. | dnf au

IV

George

"Are you sure you're alright with these arrangements?" Wilbur asks as he cleans the lenses of his glasses. "I'm sure with a little more persuading. We could get you your own quarters."

Wilbur may be insistent on the idea of me living by myself, whether that be because, in his experience - he had his own or because he didn't want me getting into any more trouble. Either way, I have every reason to continue proving that I am not my brother. If establishing that includes sharing a quarter with someone else and that someone else is part of the working class - the American working class - then I was ready to commit. 

"I'm certain," I say, a reassuring smile convincingly plastered across my face. I had to make it believable for my future endeavors to succeed. "Besides, it may be a humbling experience." If my certainty wasn't convincing enough, the whole 'path to discovery and revoking of selfish motives' would seal the deal with my brother. Sure, he wants the best for me, but I know he wanted a problematic-free family more than anything. Especially considering the position, he's been placed in. 

Wilbur looked to the protection entourage that had followed us around for most of the morning and sent them a nod as they exited my new quarters. I'm not sure what bullshit my brother was ready to conjure up to convince me that this was the right decision, but I know from experience that I cannot judge him too quickly. He always knew exactly what to say, after all. 

"Listen," he starts as he walks to my bare bed. "I know this isn't what you wanted. I know none of this is what you wanted, but I need you to know how incredibly proud I am of you for finding some way to compromise." 

"Wouldn't have been possible if you didn't dig all the pros to the decision into my brain," I smiled as I walked over to sit beside him. 

"I know, I know, but," he pauses for a moment, hesitance evident before looking back at me. "Don't be a stranger, alright? You're my little brother, and I don't say it enough, but I love you, and I'll miss your company terribly."

He wasn't wrong. He didn't say it enough, but I struggled not to cry every time he did. I feel the tears welling up, but I manage to blink them away before they become too obvious. 

"I love you too," I mutter, avoiding eye contact. The silence is loud now, but it's not uncomfortable. On the contrary, sitting in silence often felt much better than listening to him sugarcoat all of the problems swiftly placed on my shoulders for me. 

"Right, well, I better get back on the plane. I've got a meeting tomorrow morning back in London," he says, getting up from the bed and brushing himself off. "You know what you've got to do for the rest of the day?"

I nod. 

"I'll come and visit you. You're my brother. You'll always be my brother, even if you prefer otherwise most days."

I look at him now, a tint of sadness in my eyes as I search his face. He truly believes that. How could he believe that?

"Wilbur, I-" I start, but stop myself as soon as I realize this conversation would further delve us into a dialogue of spewing utter nonsense back and forth. "I look forward to your visits." It's not exactly what I want to say. Instead, I want to tell him how he's the best brother I could've ever asked for, and if I could change my life to fit my wants better, I'd like him to be a part of that life too. 

Regardless, he sends me a smile, hesitates for a moment as I stand up to lead him out the door, and suddenly I am engulfed in an embrace I haven't felt in years. His long arms around me feel like the most familial feeling. A long-lost feeling that used to feel so safe once upon a time. Who would've ever thought a hug could speak more than a thousand words ever could? I wrap my arms around him, cautiously debating whether or not a squeeze would be too much, but he answers my thoughts by squeezing first—an invitation to do the same.