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Not A Good Look

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"Wow... Laurits. Your hair."


The offender standing in the middle of his brother's room jumped. "Jesus Christ, Magne," he sighs, running his hand through his newly blonde locks. "You know our dear mother's going to have a literal breakdown when she sees you." He's getting strangely used to seeing Magne looking like he's been dragged through hell. He doesn't know how long his older brother's nose had been bleeding, but it's still dripping. Well, it's not his carpet.

There is a slightly awkward silence as Laurits deigns not to offer an explanation as to why he's in Magne's room while he was gone. "Well!" He exclaims. "I kind of look like you and Mom now, don't I?"

His brother shrugs. "Maybe."

Laurits catches this exhaustion in his voice, and pauses, examining his brother up and down, carefully this time. Who looks worse than usual. Way worse. And... singed?

"Magne... What the fuck- who the fuck did this to you?" He groaned. He had just exacted righteous revenge on that bitch, and altered his beautiful locks for the cause. It would take ages for another stroke of inspiration that brilliant to hit him again.

"Nothing," Magne says immediately, striding for his bed and falling onto it. "No-one." He hurriedly avoids eye contact by turning his face into his pillow, obviously hinting that he's going to sleep. Laurits sighs, then joins him on the bed. 

"You're missing half an eyebrow," he states, matter-of-fact. Magne's hand flies up to his face, then he drops it just as quickly. Magne is... big. A big lumbering idiot, who's so blonde he hurts to look at- who doesn't know his own strength, or the debilitating effect his words have sometimes. In fact, the only good thing about his brother is-

"You're a bad liar, Magne."

He doesn't say anything to that, probably waiting for Laurits to get bored and leave. Unfortunately for him, Laurits has nothing better to do right now, but fortunately for Laurits, it doesn't take long for Magne to break. His huge body sits straight up at a speed that seems to duck the laws of physics. He kneels next to his brother, his eyes flashing excitedly. 

"Something happened today, Laurits. Something strange. More than strange. F... Fantastic."

Laurits raises an eyebrow. "And this... thing? Is this thing why you reek of smoke?"

"Yes," Magne nods quickly. He looks like he's trying to say something, but won't let his lips part to say it. 

"And? What happened?"

Magne purses his mouth. "You won't believe me."


"Because-" He mumbles.

Laurits winces. Magne rarely mumbles, and when he does, it's rarely a good sign. Actually, never. Means something's chewing at him, but his oddly principled way of being means things a rarely bother him in that way. 

"What is it?"

He scowls, before blurting. "I'm crazy. Officially, I mean." His voice trails off near the end and his whole demeanour seems to deflate suddenly when he falls back onto his pillows, arms crossed. Laurits quickly schools his expression into one of nonchalance, even if Magne isn't looking at him right now. Officially? What the fuck does that mean? Meds? Or even worse, hospitals? Jesus, he's heard about those things. They're basically prisons. They'd never see each other again. He can just see himself shaking his fist at the sky and dabbing at his eyes with a white handkerchief outside of the iron gates like the parting scene in an episode of one of those telenovelas shown on TNC at all hours that he secretly and unironically likes.

He lays onto his side next to his big brother and stares a hole into the back of his head until Magne twists to face him. 

"Para-noid schizo-phrenia," Magne says slowly, pronouncing each syllable in English.

He raises both eyebrows. "Now say it so I can understand?"

Magne exhales quietly, and mutters almost to himself, "Yeah, I don't get it either."

He rolls his eyes at the cryptic words. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking..." He murmurs. Then his eyes focus properly on him and he frowns, his usual self. "Bro, I'm thinking get out of my bed and let me sleep."

Laurits hugs him impulsively. He's fully anticipated the way Magne stiffens up uncomfortably, and how awkward this entire affair would be upright, let alone horizontally. It never stopped him from imagining it though. 


"What?" Laurits snaps close to his ear. "I'm your brother. I can hug you."

"I mean sure, but you don't."

He doesn't say that it's half because he felt Magne could use one, nor does he mention that the "brother" excuse is a lie of almost preposterous proportions. Because both of those would be embarrassing (one a lot more than the other), and frankly embarrassment doesn't suit him.

"Well, I do now, apparently."

It takes a few moments, but eventually, Magne relaxes, and it's surprisingly gratifying.

"Why are you blonde?" Magne asks, resigned.

And as Laurits recounts the entire glorious tale, he tries desperately not to think about how warm his brother is, how alive he feels, how easy it would be to just roll over and sit on top of him, then-

Too late. He's thinking about it. And now he's mentally cursing himself for having annoyingly realistic fantasies, because now he's imagining Magne freaking out and telling him how what he wants is Pretty Damn Wrong.