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@friedrichkcnrad
He closed the door behind him with a soft click, padding barefoot across the cool floors with his pet spaniel held tightly in the cradle of his arms. It was dark outside, dawn still a few hours away, but as Anton entered Friedrich’s chambers, the soft glow of the burning fireplace illuminated his way in shades of yellow and orange and red, casting the room in dancing shadows. Had this been the first time, he would have been surprised or even a little embarrassed to be doing this. Had this been the...tenth or fifteenth time, he’d glean a bit of self-doubt. But right now, he knew exactly what to do: he put Otto down on the carpet by the fire, kissing the top of his head as the brown and white spotted dog let out a sleepy whine, and then crouched over by his brother’s bedside.
“Fritz,” Anton whispered, shaking the other gently. “Fritz, it’s important.” No response. “Fritz, wake up, I need to talk to you.” Still nothing. “Friedrich.” He shoved him hard, eliciting a groan. “Good, you’re awake.”