It was Aela who found him.
He sat at the table in the back, his head buried in his hands. He was nauseous, and it wasn't with drink. Like all true sons of Skyrim, he could hold his mead. What he could not handle was his feelings.
He wanted her. It wasn't just that he wanted to bury himself inside her, though that was a factor. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to have her smile at him with her gaze full of love. Wanted to fall asleep with her, to wake up beside her. He wanted a million moments of domesticity, but he didn't want them with just anyone. He wanted them with her.
When Aela placed a hand upon his shoulder, he fought the urge to shrug her off.
"It's alright." She said.
He didn't know how to respond, so he didn't speak. She could not possibly understand the depth of his feelings, or she wouldn't think it was alright.
"You don't want to lose them."
He lifted his head, looked into her eyes, and, with the courage that only too much mead can cause, told her the truth.
"It's her. I don't want to lose her." Aela blinked in surprise. His smile was bitter, and full of self-hatred when he continued. "Farkas will always be my brother, but I cannot love her like a sister. I want her for myself, but I love him too well to hurt him that way."
"She wasn't yours to lose." Was all Aela said. She stood, and walked away. Before she entered, she turned back and warned him. "You should come back in. Farkas will come looking for you soon."
He nodded. Aela was right. She had never been his to lose.