The brothers were welcome at the Miller ranch with a quick lunch, served by Jo and her bunch of friends, who left her to take care of her boyfriend in order to buzz around Jim like summer flies.

Like they'd known Jim for years, nobody had even looked at the master bedroom of the big old house, keeping it for him. So he let the girls stalk him for at least an hour before taking possession of his room, to spend another hour in the hot tub.

Sean and the others didn't wait for him to get their rehearsal started. Jim eventually found his way to the library, where they'd set the improvised studio, and joined them. They noticed he didn't feel like focusing on their regular routine, and spent the next hours mostly jamming.

Over dinner, Jim decided he wanted a proper welcome party. The midnight bells from the old clocks all over the house got lost in the loud music and the loud voices.

Jim was standing on top of a table, directing his friends on a bizarre choir, when his phone buzzed in the back pocket of his jeans.

Sean narrowed his eyes when he saw his brother jump down from the table, take a bow, argue his beauty needed some rest and say goodnight.

"I'll be right back," he said to Jo, and made his way through dancing friends to the stairs.

He got to the second floor in time to see Jim standing in the middle of the hall, reading something on his phone with a warm smile that caused Sean a chill. What the hell? Nobody paid him any attention when he came back down and headed straight to the kitchen. A moment later, Sean started up the stairs again, this time with two beers in his hands.

At the master bedroom, Sean found Jim laying back in bed, wearing only his boxer trunks, his laptop open on his lap, his phone plugged to it, a joint hanging from his lips.

Jim smiled when his brother stuck his head into the room and waved him over. Sean approached the bed cautiously, handing his brother a beer with a suspicious look. Jim traded beer for joint, patted the bed for Sean to sit down and unplugged his phone to place the laptop between them, turning it for Sean to see the screen.

Sean was used to Jim's artistic touch on his photographs, and went through the files with slow nods, without a word. One of the pictures caught his attention: a dark blue eye, open in surprise, a tear in frail balance on the eyelashes. The next one was Jim kissing Silvia's temple, and it reflected a whole different emotion, a warm serenity bordering affection that took him completely aback.

Jim rested on his elbow to be closer to his brother and the laptop, and went back to the picture of the tear. "That's her reacting to something I said about her," he said, and went forward to the kiss on her temple. "And this is pretty much how she and I felt over the two days we spent together."

Sean breathed deep. His brother's words had just turned those photographs from graphic poetry to a whole statement. One he wasn't sure he understood, let alone like.

"Man," he muttered, giving Jim back the joint.

"Yeah, I know." Jim showed him the picture of her tattoo. "That symbol means heaven, and this is how much she believes in God. In God and in free will."

"Can you even believe in both at the same time?"

"Looks like. I can't quote her argument, but it was pretty coherent. Outta the box, but logical."

"If you say so."

Jim motioned for Sean to look at the rest of the pictures he'd taken in the morning, while he searched his phone for something.

"This one's good," said Sean a moment later.

Jim glanced up and smiled, agreeing. It was his bare chest, with Silvia's arm showing from behind to bring her hand to rest open on his skin. The next one was exactly the same, adding Jim's hand to cover hers against his chest.

Sean snatched the joint from Jim's fingers, still looking at the pictures. He found some suggestive shots, some others were blurry or seemingly accidental on purpose. All of them had Jim's personal touch.

He paused at one of his brother laughing. He could tell it was a spontaneous, heartfelt laughter, and Sean knew Jim didn't laugh like that with just anybody.

"Listen," Jim said, playing a file from his phone.

Sean frowned. An acoustic version of Enemy? When had he—?

Jim chuckled, because Sean's face darkened when Silvia's voice joined his.

"She never knew I was recording it."

Sean refused to hand the joint back. If Jim needed to wind out about this chick and had picked him to be the audience, he wanted something more than alcohol in his system.

Jim showed him a Twitter DM on his phone. 

Sean snorted under his breath.

Next Jim dared eternal condemnation, opening a Facebook feed to show him a poem posted there.

"Read it."

Sean knew better than try to resist. So he read it. And turned his face away, snorting again.

"Hers."

"Yup."

"This ain't no prank."

"Nope."

Jim waited, knowing Sean was near his boiling point, just about to go off. And Sean did.

"What's all this shit, Jimbo?" he snarled, pissed to no end. "You said she ain't nothing like you, but all you have is a poem you could've written yourself, and those pictures of her playing your every game."

"Exactly! That's what I want you to see, bro! We were black-and-white different, and we still found so much common ground to share."

"'Cause you fucked her into a puppy, like you do with all your chicks."

Jim's laughter filled the room. He lay back on the pillows, his eyes up on the ceiling, sparkling with flashbacks Sean wanted to know nothing about.

"Puppy? Nah. This woman ain't no puppy. She's fire and steel, bro, just like you and me." Sean rolled his eyes, making Jim chuckle again. "And she's so fucking proud, y'know? She was dying to touch me, but she almost punched me when I kissed her."

"She should have and spare me this shit."

"She didn't wanna have anything with me 'cause she thought I was doing it only out of pity."

"And you were."

"Yeah, for about five minutes."

"Until she worshiped your golden cock like the others."

"Until she fucked the shit outta me and left me begging for more."

Sean raised a hand to cut Jim off. As if.

"Remember her ex this morning? His arm on a sling? She broke his arm! While the son of a bitch was trying to strangle her with his own hands!" Jim sat up on the bed, all fired up. "Dude! I found her hiding in a corner to cry, all alone a world away from home, in a foreign country with a different language, among people who hate strangers, especially from her neighborhood. And d'you think she ever asked for any help? That she asked me? Never! Not once! She didn't expect anything from anybody, but to be left alone to find a way home on her own."

Like pushed by Jim's words, Sean stood up and started pacing up and down the room, avoiding eye contact with his brother as Jim went on.

"D'you really think she needed my pity fuck? I needed to fuck her 'cause she kept me at a distance no matter what. She was smart, funny, kinda pretty, and she wanted me bad. Yet she wouldn't brush my arm by mistake. 'Cause she's that strong, bro, and that special. How could I not fuck her?"

Sean threw up his hands and faced Jim, giving up. "So? You gonna marry her or what?"

Jim squinted and snatched the joint from Sean's hand to sniff it. "Are you on something you ain't sharing?"

"Fuck you. What are you expecting me to ask after such a display? Why would you even show me and tell me all this shit?"

"'Cause I know you, and you were worried like I had my food poisoned or got brainwashed."

"Did you?"

"Of course not, you sick fuck. You wanted to know why I'm so thrilled about this woman? Well, I'm showing you why."

"And what're you gonna do about it?"

Jim frowned. "I don't know. Reply to her DM, I guess?"

Sean huffed. "I'm talking later, moron."

"Later?" Jim's smile puzzled Sean. "What later, bro?"

Sean studied Jim from under his annoyed scowl. And finally understood his brother was telling the truth. There was nothing more than what he'd seen. It was just Jim. And he was just happy. No secret meanings, nothing to hide.

"I..." Sean pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

Jim nodded, still smiling. "Yeah, go back to Jo before she kills me. Night, bro."

"Night," Sean murmured, spun around and left, closing the door on his way out.

Jim put his laptop on the floor, still chuckling under his breath, and got in bed with his phone in his hand. He turned off the light with his eyes on Silvia's DM and tilted his head. A warm smile pursed his lips as he typed his reply.

He fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow, to dream of Berlin on a gray afternoon, and a lovely café he'd discovered in Paris a couple of months earlier.

On the nightstand, his phone was still open to his reply.