Kurt blinked, staring at the wall where his twin brother had been standing not too long ago, before he fled from the room, leaving poor Kurt confused, wounded and vulnerable. He inhaled deeply, turning back to the door and heading out to his brother’s room across the hall, flinging the door open.
“What do you mean you’re sick? Since when, Cam? When?” he shouted, his voice shaking with disbelief, his hands twitching, his heart pounding against his ribs. He could feel his stomach churning, his light lunch ready to make its way back up his throat. Since when? Why would Cameron hide something like that from him?
Cameron looked up from the book he was reading, oh so calmly and walked over to his twin, cupping Kurt’s cheek in his hand as he wiped away a runaway tear. Kurt let out a shaky breath waiting for an answer, searching for emotion, any emotion, somewhere in Cameron’s icy blue eyes. None showed.
“I warned you, Kurt,” he started to say. Kurt shook his head, attempting to protest, to rant about how unfair this all was. “There were conditions you agreed to before we started this whole thing.”
“No. Cameron. Please. Stop,” Kurt muttered. “This is absolutely idiotic. Those conditions were… Just tell me what’s wrong with you. You’re lying. You’re lying. You can’t be sick.”
Cameron hugged his brother close, pressing his lips to his forehead.
“I warned you,” he whispered. “I warned you not to fall for me.”