"Georgie?" A whisper called out from the bed under the sheets in the latest of the night. A little boy of about five years old rubbed his eyes and turned around in his bed, to see his wide eyed duplicate staring at him.
"Yes, Freddie? What wrong?" He said sleepily. George yawned quietly, as Fred stared at George with a distraught look.
"Georgie? What is love?" he sputtered. George stopped mid yawn and it was his turn to stare at his brother, giving him a queer stare because of the difficult question Fred just asked.
"Why Freddie?"
"Please, Georgie, just tell me," Fred said in a quiet voice. George pulled out his hand from underneath the sheets and touched Fred's cheek. It was hot. He was blushing. George gave a sleepy smirk.
"Well, it's kind of like-" George face scrunched up in deep thought.
What did he feel when he looked at someone he loved?
He closed his eyes. A watery image of a little boy came up in his mind. George's heart gave a pang. The little boy was smiling and looking at him. George felt his heart start to race time.
"Well, it's when you're heart starts to beat real fast when you see them," he whispered to Fred, with his eyes still closed. The little boy in his mind took George's hand, and George felt like something was trying to fly out of his stomach. He felt his face get hot, as the little boy started to run with him.
"And when that person touches you, you get butterflies deep inside, and you start to blush," George sighed out. The little boy fell, and started to cry. George picked him up, and hugged the little boy in his imagination. George smiled and the little boy, and tried to calm him down. He counted every freckle the little boy had. Every touch of George's finger seemed to soothe him, till his cries were but a whimper. At the last freckle, George kissed the little boy on the cheek, and he felt his emotions light up inside him. The watery image of the surprised little boy faded away, as George slowly opened his eyes to see the exact little boy from his imagination look at him with a sleepy expression.
"And you want to protect that person, and help that person when they're hurt. And you want to kiss the person real bad," George said, smiling. He put his little hand on the little boy's face. He caressed his cheek with his thumb.
"And that, Freddie, is love," George whispered. George started count every freckle on his twins face. Every touch made Fred's eyes heave in tiredness, till his eyes were closed, and his mind was in dreamland.
"Then I think I love you, Georgie," He murmured in his sleep. George smiled as he counted the last freckle on his twins face, and kissed his cheek softly. He put his arm around him, and pulled himself even closer.
"Me too," He whispered, and slowly drifted off to sleep.