As soon as Evie heard the sniffles she knew it was going to be a long week. Neither twin handled illness very well but Jacob in particular was a terrible patient when it came to colds. She sighed when he walked by to head toward their table at the tavern, his nose red and dripping with mucus. He never bothered using a handkerchief and instead resorted to using his sleeves to wipe his nose.
"Here, use this. It's more sanitary," she said as she sat down, whipping out her own handkerchief and handing it to him. Surprisingly he took it, and blew his nose properly (and very loudly, to the chagrin of the other patrons) before trying to hand it back to her. "Danks, sis. I appreciate it."
"Er, don't mention it," she said, pushing the cloth away from her with disgust. Jacob, of course, missed the look on his sisters face as he stuck the soiled handkerchief into his pocket while signaling for the barmaid to bring their drinks. Evie secretly hoped he would drink himself into a stupor and sleep all night long. She hated having to deal with him like this. It was bad enough having to deal with him when he wasn't sick.
Their ales came and they drank in relative silence, with the occasional sniff from Jacob, as they waited for their friend. The plan was to meet in the afternoon to discuss parameters for assassinating their next target, but with one of the twins threatening a cold it put somewhat of a damper on things.
"Is Greenie coming sometime today or wha'," the younger Frye twin complained after taking one giant swig from his tankard. He had spilled some ale onto his shirt and was going between dabbing at that and still trying to wipe his runny nose. Evie, turning slightly green, had finally had enough.
Rising quickly up out of her seat, she reached over and grabbed his shoulders. Startled, he tried to say something but only managed a short "Da bloody hell!?-" before she lifted him out of his chair.
"Come on, you. Up you get. You are going straight to bed, right this moment!"
" 'Ey, ease up woman. The rooms spinning and don't you dare forget my hat."
"Forget that ridiculous hat and get to bed! You can primp and preen all you like when you're better. Now move!"
They had finally made it to the rooms they shared (not without a lot of tripping and pushing) and Evie with her hands still on her brothers shoulders, kicked the door open and guided him in. As she turned to light a few candles, she felt him come up behind her and put his arms around her shoulders.
"Thanks, Evie," he said softly.
"You're welcome, brother," Evie said, reaching her hand to his and patting it.
After their little moment, Jacob let go and shuffled off to his bed and no sooner than his head hit the pillow, or in this case partially hit the headboard, he was snoring long and loud.
Evie looked at him for a moment and shaking her head pulled of his boots and sat them in a corner along with his jacket and, "Oh, right. His hat. He'll kill me if it was stolen." She ran downstairs and sighed in relief to see it still on the table right where they left it, along with a note from their friend Henry saying that he was caught up in something at the moment and wouldn't be able to meet. "Well," she said quietly to herself, "it's alright. My dear brother needs his rest anyhow," and taking his hat in hand, cradling it with warmth, she headed back upstairs.