“Does he hurt you?”

            “What does it matter?”

            “You’re my little brother; I always care! So…does he hurt you?”

            “No.”

            “I’ve seen you cry.”

            “You’re blind.”

                                                            ~*~*~

            I felt him pull away more then I saw him; the warmth seeped from my body like a leak in a bathtub. I curled up on myself, the sheets making soft rustling noises. He stood up, slipping out of the bed. His feet were gentle against the floor, making almost no noise.

            A pair of arms wrapped around my middle, pulling me closer to a different source of heat, my other love. I turned onto my other side, burying my nose in the naked chest of him. I was crying; I couldn’t feel the tears fall from my eyes, nor did I sense the sharp stinging sensation that usually came with the crying, but I felt the hot tears spread on my cheeks onto his drying skin.

            His fingers stroke my back and my hair, lips playing against my forehead. His words are like his touches, but even his soft words can’t help.

            It hurts…It hurts to know someone I love, someone I cherish more then anything, thinks they’re unworthy of anything. Worthy of anything, including our love. It hurts, it truly hurts for him to think, to truly believe, something such as that. It makes me, makes both of us, feel as if he doesn’t feel as if we’re…No. That’s stupid. He loves us.

                                                            ~*~*~

            “Why’re you crying, Kitten?”

            “Saran pulled my hair.”

            “Your eyes are red.”

            “Hold me.”

            “What?”

            “Please. Hold me.”

            “…”

            “Thank you.”

            “Love you, Kitten.”

            “Love you always, fox.”

                                                            ~*~*~

            This was written by me, Brady, whatever. From the POV of our Kitten. J