Chapter 9: How do you look like?

                                    

                                          
"Mal?" Asked Angus. He was sitting on his bed, finishing his homework, which he had to write in Braille. Malcolm was sitting in the office chair, playing the guitar.
                          
"Yes?" Asked Malcolm.
                          
"How do you look like?" Asked Angus. It was quiet for a while.
                          
"What do you mean, Angus?" Malcolm asked tenderly, sitting down next to his brother.
                          
"I ... you are always there for me. But I don't know what you look like." Malcolm nodded a little. "Can you describe yourself?"
                          
"Well ... I'm as tall as you. I have fair skin and dark brown, straight, shoulder-length hair." Angus ran a hand over Malcolm's hair.
                          
"I knew that they were smooth, but not what color they were. I thought you were blonde. That's light, isn't it?" Malcolm started laughing.
                          
"That would look funny. But yeah, Ang. Blonde is light." Angus chuckled.
                          
"What color are your eyes?" Asked Angus.
                          
"Dark brown. Marga says they look like chocolate."
                          
"Can I ... can I feel your face?" Angus asked shyly. "So that I can picture you." Malcolm nodded.
                          
"Yes." Angus leaned forward and ran his hands over Malcolm's sides.
                          
"Oh. You're slim." Malcolm chuckled. Angus' fingers went under Malcolm's shirt. "You have hair on your chest. What color is it?"
                          
"Dark brown." Malcolm smiled at Angus. The smaller one had never asked how he looked. Angus put his hands on Malcolm's cheeks.
                          
"You have a pretty sharp jaw." He noted. He brushed Malcolm's nose and forehead. Then he brushed Malcolm's eyebrows. "Your eyebrows are dark brown, I suppose."
                          
"Yes." Malcolm said softly.
                          
"And your lip has a little scar, can that be?"
                          
"Yes. My lower lip was split and then grew back together."
                          
"Your hair is so soft." Angus whispered happily, stroking Malcolm's hair. Then he pulled back. "I think you are a beautiful person, Malcolm." Malcolm smiled.
                          
"I'm not beautiful, Angus. Be glad you didn't see me."
                          
"I have seen you." Said Angus. Malcolm smiled. "How do I look, Mal?"
                          
"You?"
                          
"Mh." Angus hummed.
                          
"Well ... you're as tall as me, you're pretty thin. Almost only skin and bones." Both laughed. "You have light brown curls that stand in all directions. You have beautiful green eyes. The same nose, the same lips and the same jaw as me. You have pearly white teeth, even if you do the foremost is a little crooked, but you hardly notice it. You are beautiful, Angus." Angus smiled a little and leaned against Malcolm.
                          
"I wish I could see you. All these years you've been with me. Every day. And I could never see you. Now I can imagine you a little, but since I don't know what colors are, I can only remember the roughness of your hands. And the shape of your face." Malcolm sighed.
                          
"I swear to you, Angus. As soon as there is a chance for you to see again, I'll take it."
                          
"Thanks, Mal." Angus smiled.