Because it's different

He hurriedly burst through the door, took off his shoes and dashed for the living room. The ruckus startled Dylan who was trying to read his newspaper.

He looked bewilderingly at his brother who was now pushing magazines off from the coffee table and swinging the cushions away from their rightful place. He put down his paper, stood up and made his way away from all the mess.

"What are you doing?" Dylan asked but no answer came. He grew impatient.

"I'll ask you again. What are you doing?" he raised his voice.

His brother stopped his frantic of a search and looked up. Dylan smiled at his small victory. His courtroom voice never once failed him.

"I'm looking for something," he then bent down and checked the underside of the table.

"And what is that exactly?" Dylan asked again, arms now crossed.

His brother ignored him again.

 "OUCH!" he hit his head as he pulled it out of the table's bottom. He rubbed his head violently and dashed into his room. Dylan shook his head and followed closely behind.

"Mr Aaron, would you just tell me what're you searching for?" as he leaned on the door's frame, looking at his brother who now ransacked his room like some robber desperate for loot. The neatly made bed, now in a heap of mess.

"Look, maybe I haven't made this straight. I'm your brother. I'm not your maid," Dylan said dryly. The continual ignorance was pushing Dylan to his limit now. He cleared his throat, crossed his arms and continued, "Aaron, please tell me what the hell are you looking for?".

Aaron stopped short of rummaging the wardrobe, sensing the annoyance in his brother now. He gave him a quick glance, reached deep into his wardrobe and pulled out a box.

"I'm looking for my handkerchief," he gave a quick reply as he opened the cover of the box. Dylan put his hands into his pocket and stood up straight.

"You mean the white one?" he asked. Aaron's eyes went wide open and rushed towards his brother. He grabbed Dylan by the shoulders and shook him a bit.

"Yes! Where is it?!" Aaron asked loudly. "Easy there." Dylan said dryly again. Aaron realizing his eagerness, let go off him and apologized. Dylan shook his head and jerked his head to the right, "It's on the dinner table."

Aaron made his way there quickly and found it. It was white but with a shallow shade of blue on the edges. At the bottom right corner, "With Love" was embroidered on it. He took it up and put it near his nose. Eyes closed... He was just grateful that it isn't lost. He then folded it neatly and snugged it carefully into his pocket.

"You dropped it near the shoe rack when you left. And if that's the thing that caused this mess of a home-," Dylan tried getting his utter annoyance across.

"I'll clean it up." Aaron interrupted sharply.

Dylan shrugged and said, "If you say so... Look, if you need handkerchiefs that much, I can get you a dozen on a cheap. Okay?"

Aaron gave a strong glare at his brother but loosen as he felt the unsightliness of his stare.

"I don't need more handkerchiefs, Dylan. Thanks but no thanks," Aaron replied.

"But you seemed eager and..." Dylan looked around the messy living room and continued, "anxious about not carrying one. You'll need 'em."

"No, I don't."

"Then why all this?" Dylan waved his hand around.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you can't stop asking questions?" Aaron blurted out.

"That's the nature of my job. And you're not the first one to tell me," he answered, unimpressed.

Aaron knew his brother wouldn't give up until he had a definite answer. So, he gave in.

"I don't need more handkerchiefs. I only need this one."

Dylan's frowned brows relaxed.

"Why?" he asked, trying to be as gentle as he could.

"Because it's different," came the answer.

They remained silent for a moment.

"Because it's from her," Dylan said.

Aaron looked at his brother with a tinge of guilt written on his face.

"Am I right?" Dylan asked though he already knew the answer.

Aaron looked away and stared at the balcony, unsure what else there is to say.

-End-