This time, only this time, I wanted to warm my brother's hands, but what I got in exchange was a cold, stiff body.
My brother passed away at 24 years old, and I will always remember him for the rest of my life.
Sometimes I wonder, if I had brought my brother home that day and told him that I still loved him, would my brother not have died?
I love my brother, but my brother loves me more. My love is worthless in front of my brother's love...
Short story be, first person.
Intention: My brother loves me.
