Chapter Two Hundred Forty Three: Saint
There was an incessant knocking on the door. Somehow Ernesto already knew who it was before he stood up to unlock it. The knocks were frantic and inpatient, likely the way his brother felt. He expected Damien to make a snide remark about how long it took him to open the door. He expected another lecture about why he shouldn't have come here without informing him first. He expected to be smacked upside the head, to be shoved to the wall. Those were all he knew were most likely to happen, not his older brother wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace.
But that was exactly what had happened. Once Ernesto pulled the door open, Damien had stepped in and hugged him. Ernesto was stunned. He had gone so still— even his chest had stopped heaving with breaths. He was a statue. A block of ice.
Damien let go of him, only for his gaze to begin perusing his features, his body. For what, Ernesto had no clue.