“You don’t have to ‘check up’ on me every single week, nothing changes. I’m fine, and am perfectly content where I am.” the Gothitelle said, his voice accidentally getting gruff. “You’re doing what I absolutely fucking hate, and that’s treating me like a cripple. I’m your brother, not your patient, so treat me as such. Visit me like you’re visiting family, not like you’re constantly checking on my health like you already do. You’re wasting your time constantly coming here, so stop it.”
A pause, silence. Andrei pondered all the words that his older brother said. All this time the model thought he was doing a service, but in reality he had inadvertently become what his brother disliked. He bowed his head slowly, and nodded. It needed to be said, however, and the magician knew this. He knew it would hurt, but it was necessary. He sighed, and slowly stepped closer to the silently weeping Psychic-type.