His brother didn’t look like him. At least, Spencer didn’t think so. He was taller. His hair was darker. He was different. It wasn’t that he’d been expecting anything from Christian, because, honestly, he had no idea what was going to happen, but he definitely didn’t look at him and see their relation. Luckily, he didn’t remind him that much of their dad, either. He had nothing to say, but he wasn’t necessarily grateful for his younger brother breaking the silence. It just reminded him what a difficult time he had socializing. His fingers curled up into his palm, into a fist, before releasing. He repeated the motion with both hands, in an attempt to calm himself down. He looked around for Emily, or Sidney, or any familiar face that would comfort him, but it was just Christian.
He reached into his pocket and pulled the same pack of cigarettes out. Its contents were quickly declining, but that didn’t stop him from pulling another cigarette out. He lit it, ignoring the rule he’d set in place for himself not to smoke in the same house as his son. Sidney wasn’t around now, though, and he really wanted to smoke, so he did. Breathing in a lungful of smoke, he crossed the room and plopped down on the couch. He looked up at his brother and then motioned to the couch, for him to sit down next to him.
Spencer scanned his mind for something to say to the boy; some conversation that they could hold. What did people usually talk about in this situation? The only thing that Spencer knew they had in common was their father, and he didn’t have much to say about the man. He definitely didn’t have anything positive to say about him. He continued to smoke, unable to think of something to say. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat before looking over to Christian. “How old are you?” he asked. He may have been told the answer once before, and he wasn’t sure why he was even asking, but it was all that came out, so he stuck with it.