"When you die, I will not mourn for you."
The other across the room put down his paint brush and turned away from the white-streaked canvas. "And why not?" He asked, face calm and calloused hands relaxed.
"Just..." The other trailed off, surprised to have received an answer. "Because."
"Because?" He had an unusually bemused look on his face.
The first opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly. "I need not answer to you!" He finally spat out, though he was staring at the floor.
"You need not, but you can." The other suggested. He sighed silently at his counterpart, and turned back to his white-coated canvas. Blues, browns, and greens were peaking out from the whiteness that had easily overcome all the other colors.
"Face me." The first stated, an annoyed tone entering his speech. He tightened one unblemished fist. He waited a moment, but there was no answer. "I told you to face me, brother!" He squinted. "Don't turn your back to me again!" The first called out in an almost panicked voice. The second turned to him, with what most would call pity decorating his face. "Please." He almost whispered.
"Do I not face you now?" The second smiled, eyes squinting in an almost over-exaggerated fashion.
"Now!" The first looked up again, now angry. "You do now! Not when I needed you, will need you!" He turned his head away. "And still..."
"Still?" He repeated, waiting for any answer.
There was a pause before the first man contorted his face and crossed his arms. "You would not mourn for me." He bit his lip and turned his back to the other.
"You turn your back to me, now?" The other questioned, his face emotionless for nearly a moment. With what others would call a smirk, the second man took a new paint brush from the base of his easel."What was that word you made? Yes, irony in its fullest." He laughed an empty laugh.
The first brother's eye twitched. "Do not mock me!" He looked ready to run forward, but it was as if an invisible force held him back.
"I would never mock you, brother. You know that." His eyes softened, filling again with deep emotion. "And not mourn you?" He twitched at the mere thought. "Ah, but I would." He dipped the brush in white.
"Lie!" The other shot out, though he knew it was true. "You lie..." He repeated, more to convince himself than the other.
Said other turned to the canvas again."What reason have I to lie to my brother?"
"No true reason." He reluctantly admitted after a few moments. He turned back to face him, but upon noticing his resumed activity he began to walk away. "There never is." He muttered.
"But, my dear brother, what makes you believe I shall die first?" Called an unexpected voice.
He tensed up, and hastily shot what most would call a glare over his shoulder, only to notice that the other had stopped again, brush to canvas.
"Because I hold more sway over your most precious thing." He turned around to point a proud finger at the canvas.
Without turning his head, the other smiled lightly.
"Yes," He put down the brush. "But Temptation will always keep many from Enlightenment. Always has."
His brother lowered his finger."And in return."
The other gave an empty, obviously unfeeling smile. "And in return."
The first chose that moment to speak up. "I will overcome you."
"And I will not mourn for you."
"You will not."
With one last glance at the canvas's work, in utter disrepair, the first brother left.
And the second brother laughed as he dipped his paint brush into a vat of pure black. "You would not mourn, for I would be the lucky one."