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"Is that so? I hope you're not causing them too much trouble, Allan. Unlike you, they have jobs to do.”
He faked innocence, placing a hand over his heart.
"Trouble? Me? Never."
I shook my head, still smiling, while Allan turned his attention to the maids.
"Thank you for taking care of him, ladies. You're doing a fantastic job."
Both maids nodded in unison, their faces lit with genuine warmth.
"Of course, we’re just doing our jobs,” Hilda replied to the group.
With a dismissive wave, I went to the kitchen, deciding it was time for a cup of coffee. The fragrant aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as I prepared a cup.
I leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping my coffee. Allan's story continued to flow, encouraged by laughter from my staff. It’s a peculiar scene but one that felt strangely heart-warming.
In that moment, I realized how fortunate I was to have family and companions who could find joy in the simplest moments.
I didn’t even know he’d stayed the night. Allan liked to drop in and out of my house whenever he wished to. He was always welcomed here, an open invitation, and never needed to ask.
Lost in my thoughts, I barely registered Allan approaching the kitchen doorway, still entertaining the audience.
"And then, my friends, I managed to outwit the raccoons by... well, I won't bore you with the details."
Hilda and one of the maids exchanged amused glances, clearly indulging Allan and his antics. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like Belle, the other maid, was blushing.
The sun was beginning to glow warmly through the windows, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment.
Leaving downstairs, I went to my study, stopping by my bedroom to get dressed. The morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room.
It's a solace where I could escape the world's bustle and focus on my work.
As I settled into my chair, the soft murmur of laughter from the living room still echoed in my ears, a reminder of the vibrant energy my brother, Allan, brought wherever he went.
My solitude was short-lived, however, as the door to my study creaked open.
Allan stepped in, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. In his arms, he carried a covered canvas, intriguing me with the mystery of its contents. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, curiosity piqued.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" I asked, my tone laced with amusement.
Allan’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he placed the canvas carefully on one of the chairs.
"Oh, you're in for a treat, big brother. Prepare to be amazed.”
I chuckled, leaning forward in my seat.
"Amazed, you say? I'm intrigued."
He dramatically pulled the cover away, unveiling the artwork beneath.
My eyes widened as I took in the incredibly realistic portrait before me. It depicted our family—Allan, me, and our parents—captured in stunning detail.
The emotions on our faces, the subtle play of light and shadow—it’s as if Allan had frozen a moment of our lives in time.
I was pleasantly dumbfounded, unable to tear away from the masterpiece before me.
"Allan, this is... incredible. Did you paint this?"
