"Sorry," said Nathan, pulling back slightly from the hug and wiping his tears.
He looked at his older brother, the man who had always been an immovable fortress, and felt a cold shiver of dread.
"What can I do to make you feel better? Everyone needs you," whispered Nathan, his voice thick with the remnants of his tears.
He was still sobbing. For some reason, he felt unbearably sad.
Alexander didn't answer for a long time. At times like this, he still tried to analyze his brother's thoughts. Nathan, whom he had always thought was wild and uncaring, was the one crying the hardest.
He turned his face toward the TV, but his gaze was hollow and glazed, as if he were staring into a void.
"They will get used to it without me. I'm too tired," he said, his voice a dry rasp.
Nathan looked at his brother in disbelief. "You're really never going to leave this room? Ever?"
