It was entirely possible that he had only entered the room to end our conversation. His hood was still pulled up, so I couldn’t tell if he had heard us or not, but I could feel the weight of his stare nonetheless. He stalked across the carpet and folded himself stiffly into the armchair in the corner, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Silas stepped into the room and closed the door with deliberate slowness. The door opened and Quillan’s sentence trailed off. “The day I see an actual expression on my brother’s face-”
“Expressive…” he repeated, shaking his head. Quillan was silent as he examined me, but he must have seen the humour somewhere in my eyes, for he eventually started laughing. I bit my tongue, my face burning up again. “That’s a very keen observation, considering you’ve only just met him.” It’s here too, everywhere that he is, waiting for him at the end of each day and waking him up each morning.” He’s seen a lot of pain in the past, and it hasn’t stayed there-where it should be. You’re right, not all silences are dark, but his are. “I haven’t misinterpreted his social grace, Bossman. Quillan’s lip quirked in response, but he kept his expression otherwise schooled. Hearing Silas casually described as anti-social was so out-of-place that I actually snorted out a laugh. “He may be a little… anti-social, but that doesn’t necessarily make him violent.” He tilted his head to the side, blinking once in a surprised manner, his brows drawing together. “What does that have to do with anything?” “You can’t embarrass him if he’s not here to listen to whatever you have to say.” It seemed out of place in their apartment. “I don’t want to embarrass him.” My voice was faint, and I stared unblinkingly at a tiny dust ball clinging to the carpet. It was thinly veiled curiosity that hinted at a tinge of misplaced wonder. “How?” The shift in Quillan’s demeanour was familiar I had seen it before when Noah was teaching me to play the piano. “They’re the same colour.” Quillan frowned in thought. I wanted to come clean about my history with Silas, but the look in his eyes as the elevator closed on his face was still haunting me, so instead I said, “His eyes are different.” I swallowed, my eyes flicking to the floor, considering my response.
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