Chapter Text
My hands were completely red; I was just finishing my painting, red poppies against a background of roses. I don't know what compelled me to paint this. I've always loved poppies; their color was similar to roses, but they were very different because a poppy couldn't hurt you like a rose could.
I stepped back and looked at the finished work, wondering if I was missing something. I couldn't stop looking because I heard the squeak of the door opening.
"Hey!!" my younger brother yelled.
"Could you stop shouting?" I asked, eyeing the much shorter boy.
"Have you finished the painting yet?" he asked, and I moved slightly to the side, revealing the work I'd painted moments ago.
"Wow, it's beautiful," said the delighted 7-year-old. "Will you teach me to paint like that?" he asked with his sweet eyes.
"No," I replied curtly, to which he lightly punched me in the arm. Of course, it didn't hurt, but I decided to give it back to him anyway. I caught him and threw him on my bed, making sure he was okay. I started tickling him until he started crying with laughter.
I lay down on the bed next to him and we both stared at my ceiling. It was covered in paintings, some I'd painted a while ago, some not so long ago. I stared at them, wondering, "What did the artist mean?" Most of them were flowers, mostly sunflowers or poppies. I've already explained why I love poppies, but sunflowers are even more interesting. They always turn toward the sun.
You could compare them to someone trying to get someone's attention but losing it at the end of the day. I was interrupted by this little cashew. "Why do you paint on the walls?" the 7-year-old asked me, to which I giggled slightly.
"When I was your age, my favorite princess was Rapunzel, and she did that too," I replied, turning my head toward my brother. We lay there for a few more minutes, looking at my paintings on the walls and ceiling. Louis looked interested. It's wonderful when someone you love loves what you do. I wanted to tell him about my paintings, but he hit me with a pillow, ruining my makeup.
"You little prick!! Come here!" I shouted as Louis ran into the hallway, passing our mom, who was preparing dinner.
"Don't kill each other," she said with a smile.
I love it when she smiles. Her light hair and blue eyes look perfect with her radiant smile.
"Aren't you a little old to be chasing a 7-year-old?" my mom asked.
"I don't think so," I said quickly, then ran after my brother.
"I got you!" I shouted, catching Louis. We both started laughing. I crouched down to be at my brother's height and looked into his green eyes.
"I love you, little one," I said with a smile, and the 7-year-old hugged me tightly.
I won't let anyone hurt him.
"We have to go to dinner," I said, getting up and heading towards the dining room. We both entered the dining room, which was connected to the living room. The first thing that caught my attention was the open window, a gust of wind blowing in. I walked to the window, looking at the sunflower field near my house. They look wonderful this time of year.
"Evelyn, don't stick your head out the window, you'll catch a cold," my mom said, entering the dining room, holding some salads. I closed the window and sat down at the table.
I helped Louis serve himself some salad with a tomato and other vegetables, and then helped him serve his portions, to which he thanked me. He has such a sweet voice. I love him more than anything in the world, and no one will change that, unless our mom grounded me for something that little cashew did, but that's a story for another time.
After dinner, Louis and I sat in the living room and watched some Ninjago or whatever, but actually, he was watching it while I was on my phone.
"Evelyn?" Louis started.
"What?" I asked.
"Do you love me?" the little troll asked.
Of course I love him. What kind of question is that?
"Yes, I love you, more than anything in the world," I said, putting the phone aside. Louis and I stared at each other for a moment longer, and then he went back to watching his cartoon. I fucking love him.
Because, as Marion C. Garretty said,
"siblings are a piece of childhood that we never lose."