LONLIN: Twins 13

Ill

"Dillon! Dillon!"

Dillon, who was seriously reading Detective Conan, was immediately shocked to hear Devlin's hysterical screams. His sister even ran into the house. As he remembered, Devlin had gone shopping with mom. Most willing to show off, Inner Dillon.

"So I met dr. Dina," the impatient Devlin, instantly started the story without being asked.

"drs. Dina, who?" ask Dillon not interested.

"Isa. The doctor who once helped us to birth."

"Oh." After giving the response, Dillon refocused his attention on the comic that had been ignored earlier.

Devlin did not take a headache with Dillon's lazy response. He continued enthusiastically, "Mother said I was born 15 minutes after you were born, right? It turns out that Dr. was wrong. Dina said, we're only 13 minutes apart, really!"

"Continue?"

"That means our age is getting closer."

"Oh."

"So, you can't tell me that anymore."

Dillon.

"From now on, don't ever call me a 'bitch' again."

Swerving again.

"Okay, older brother 13 minutes! We agreed, huh?"

"Isa. Whose son is he?" furious Dillon, after Devlin again ran super cheerfully leaving himself towards the bedroom.

After the incident last day, Devlin was no longer visible, even when the mother paid for the night shift work he still did not leave the room. Meanwhile, Dad has been out of town since yesterday. Be, a lonely house like this. Worried, Dillon knocks on Devlin's room and bows his head after opening the door himself.

Dillon frowned when he saw his brother curled up under the blanket.

"You sick again?" ask Dillon softly.

"Hhm," replied Devlin weakly. He turned his body towards Dillon and his face looked red. Probably due to fever.

"Would you take medicine?" ask Dillon to worry.

"Udah.”

Dillon smelled a faint smile. Then he approached his sister. "Wear the right blanket, dong," he said, helping Devlin fix the blanket, then sat down next to Devlin.

"Dillon, my body's hot," Devlin fights.

“Iya, his name is also fever. But it'll heal, really," said Dillon soothe.

"Dad, Mom, haven't come home yet?"

"Yet. Mom's going in the night. If it's Dad, he said he'd come home at dawn."

No one spoke anymore, until Dillon took the initiative to do something.

"Here's your head I'm massaging."

Devlin. Then shifted the pillow and his head approached Dillon.

“The massage is correct,” Devlin moans, when Dillon is just getting started.

"This is right."

"You massaged my temple bones. Kan, sick!”

"Ish, this kid!” Dillon growled, but then he asked again with gentle intonation, “Now is that right?"

"Hhh." Devlin began to close his eyes which felt hot if it was opened continuously.

"Is it better to be compressed, let the fever go down quickly?" dillon.

"No, no, no."

Silent again.

"Dillon's."

"Hmm?"

"Please get me some drinking water. I'm thirsty."

"Okay, just a minute."  Dillon got up and was about to start stepping out of the room, but stopped again as Devlin again made a request.

"Yes." Yeah."

"Wear a big glass."

"Yes, chatty."

"Dillon's."

"What else?"

"Thank you."

"Sama-sama, younger sister is 13 minutes."

***

Early in the morning Dillon was excited as he entered Devlin's room.

"Devlin's."

"Hmm?"

"Devlin!"

"What?"

Devlin, who was still half conscious from his sleep, finally got up as well.

"My head hurts. Hot face. I think I have a fever" said Dillon, then he lay down and put his head on Devlin's lap.

Devlin immediately placed his palm on Dillon's forehead, and looked worried afterwards. "Eh, really, your forehead is warm. Maybe my fever. I'm compressing, huh?"

"Hhh."

Slowly, he moved from his bed to the kitchen. Before long, he returned with the equipment to compress in his hand.

"Dad not come home yet?"

"Yet SMS, the plane was delayed."

Devlin nodded in understanding. He started soaking in a small towel preparing to compress Dillon. Good thing it's Saturday and school is off otherwise the two of them won't be able to leave school, he thought.

"Usahain learned the drug dong nelan, Dillon. It's not funny, if it's as big as you can't swallow the capsule," Devlin said, as his hands painstakingly put a wet towel on Dillon's forehead.

"Devlin, the compress water seeped into my eyes, this," protested Dillon, without poking into the words of his sister just now.

"Eh? Sora.. Sora."

"In the squeeze first, just put."

"Yes, chatty."

Feeling quite comfortable, Dillon began to close his eyes.

"Is it still a headache?"

"Still," replied Dillon still with his eyes closed.

"You sleeping?"

"No."

"Is your head still hurting?"

"You just asked that question ten seconds ago, Devlin," exasperated Dillon.

"I'll worry," said Devlin. He left, but only to pick up a blanket in the corner of the bed.

"Wear the blanket, huh? Or do I want to get a bigger blanket?"

"No need. Wear that one."

"Oh, okay."

"..."

"Your head still hurts, Dillon?"

"Hff."