That thought hit him suddenly, and with it came a jarring realization—how childish was he, really?
Here he was, thinking far more immature thoughts than Rocco ever had.
Who was he to say Rocco was still a child, when the one clinging to that belief was himself—acting like a petulant child refusing to let go? How pathetic. How foolish.
All those logical, drawn-out arguments he had made boiled down to just one selfish truth: Don't take Rocco away from me.
"Big Brother!"
Just as shame began to heat his body from head to toe, his little brother's sweet voice swept over him like a breeze.
"…Rocco…"
He looked up.
In those few short seconds, Sylas had already revisited every memory he'd ever made with Rocco, from childhood to now.
But this—this—was reality.
The moment where Rocco had declared he wanted to marry that bastard Del Fiore.
The memory made his face twist involuntarily.
