Portraits

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We spent the rest of the day in my apartment, mostly singing and playing video games (Lotte enjoyed GTA!), because she couldn't do much effort and blabla.
It was 7 pm, we were sited on the floor (yes the floor was curiously comfortable) talking about life. Lotte told me more about her family problems and the dog Broxi's adventures through countries. I've met him when we went to Charlotte's house pack some essential items she would need; and of course to take care of Broxi.
- Louis, do you have a sister? - she grabs a lock of hair to brush it.
- Yes, she's younger than me, such a cutie... And I have a brother too. Want to see?
Charlotte opens a huge smile and nods impatiently. I get up to get my family portraits that are in my bedroom, on a big shelf.
- Here we go! - I come back hugging a thousand frames at once. She laughs.
- Don't you have a photo album?!
I explain that all the albums stayed at mom's and I just had time to steal a few photos before moving.
She holds the first frame from the pile. It was my sister.
- She's blondie like you!
- Yes, but she has my mother's family eyes, bright brown.
- And you stayed with your blue ones... - Lotte makes a bunch of hair fall over her face. I don't have long hair so I just blush.
Then she shows me a couple at their own marriage.
- They are gorgeous!
I laugh.
- Yeah, now they are a little older but still gorgeous!
She grins, putting my parents away, and looks at the next photo on the pile.

The room suddenly becomes completely still and silent.
I glimpse at Charlotte, wondering why she has stopped moving. What I see are two eyebrows up and curved, forming horizontal wrinkles at her forehead. She has raised the upper eyelids, giving her eyes the appearance of a black hole, wide and with no bright. Blank face, expressionless, her chest going up and down without a steady pace, fists closed tight.
And I realize Charlotte's pupils were actually fixed on the last portrait, which slipped out of its place. No other movements, no sound; just her gaze at that stupid photo.
It was my brother, looking intensely right at the camera. His hair was half covering one of his eyes, his mouth curved in a malicious smirk, typical of Calvin Klein models. He is about Charlotte's age.
I could hear her heart beating from were I was.
    - I think I'm going to throw up. - She abruptly gets on her feet, face covered by both hands.

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