#madens

“Fat chance,” was signed back, and Caelum blew up his cheeks in annoyance.

“You’re stubborn,” he chastised, and at least it got his brother to chuckle. “There’s nothing to worry about here. For once we have nothing to worry about.”

“There’s always something to worry about,” Madens disagreed with a frown. Caelum heaved a sigh.

“Then let’s retire and get a farm.” The sarcasm was heavy in his expression, and the wry smirk that he aimed at his brother. Madens rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he shot back, reaching out to cuff Caelum’s head. It was a very fraternal gesture, and Caelum shouldered Madens’ hip because it was as high as he reached.

Looking around the crowd-choked junction, Caelum sought a place to sit and order food. Madens was always more agreeable when he was eating. A stranger crossed his line of sight, and something about her energy drew his attention. Raising both hands to his mouth, he admired her bright eyes, her buoyant stride, her fluffy hair. “Mads, look,” he signed quickly, unheeding of how his moving hands seemed to catch her attention; plenty of people were surprised by such quick signing, normally unaware at first that it was a language.

“What?“ His brother looked more on-edge, and Caelum rolled his eyes at Mads’ tetchiness.

“That girl,” he said, using his eyes rather than pointing and singling her out while she was looking in his direction. “She’s so pretty!”

Madens groaned aloud, plopping a hand on Caelum’s head. Aloud he muttered, “You’re hopeless, kid.”

If he hadn’t said it out loud, Caelum wouldn’t have seen him sign it; he was too busy staring at the girl’s beaming face, eyes crinkling and alight with glee, as she raised her hands. And signed: