"What's with you?"

Tim looked up at me over his notebook, evidently confused.

"What do you mean?"

I tried to discern the look he was giving me, whether he was trying to convince me that he didn't know what I was talking about and in reality felt guilty.

"Why do you keep asking about Isabel," I asked, noticing how uncomfortable he became almost instantly. Clearly he regretted mentioning her.

"I'd have thought you would want to stay away from her, not see more of her," I continued.

From the minute he first suggested we go away for the weekend with Isabel I had been panicking. I considered that he missed her and that he was still torn between the two of us, that he needed to know her better before making his choice. Part of me wrongly thought he intended to cheat on me with her again and I couldn't fathom why he had wanted me to be there when the two of them could have run off together.

"She's your sister," he half whispered while looking guilty. "I don't know," he hesitated. "I guess I feel guilty that I came between you both. I'm not really sure how to fix it," he sighed heavily while staring vacantly in the direction of the floor.

I could only stare at him. I had always thought of myself as the only one in the relationship with any self realisation. I had long since accepted the fact that Tim was a selfish little bastard who would do whatever he pleased and whatever suited him, not because he didn't care for anyone else but simply because it never occurred to him to think of something from someone else's perspective.

I concluded that it was idiotic of me to expect more from such a damaged little boy who had grown up alone in the world. There was never anyone else to think of but himself so why should he. I thought back on the Tim I had first known and how self absorbed he had been. It felt wrong to think that I had trained him but he had definitely changed.

I had stood for a moment in a reverent silence on the morning when he poured me the last of the cereal before making himself something else. Entirely insignificant for the most part but to me it was a sign that I lived in Tim's world outside of an external existence. He had wanted something and yet paused to ponder if I might want it too, before considering my need as greater than his own.

I felt cruel for having assumed his intentions were anything other than kind when he tried to befriend Isabel. I realised how self-absorbed I had been over the past few months, barely acknowledging how difficult it must have been for him to sacrifice his own pride so that I could maintain a relationship with my sister.

I imagined his inner turmoil in trying to repress any feelings he had for her whether they be sexual or emotional and I felt an admiration for him for constantly putting himself in that position. I had assumed he had wanted to be there rather than from his perspective of him wanting me to be happy.

"I didn't realise," I told him quietly, trying not to make it obvious that I felt ashamed of myself.

"I want to fix it," he said sadly, looking at me with puppy dog eyes that looked slightly watery. "If you need me to stay away from her, I can," he said earnestly as he set his book to the side.

"Just tell me what I need to do." He stood rather awkwardly in front me me, watching me expectantly for an answer. I wasn't sure what to tell him.

"You don't have to stay away from her," I clarified, pulling him into a hug. He rested his head on my shoulder and nestled into me, tightly winding his arms around my waist in a tight embrace. It felt like he was clinging to me like a piece of driftwood in a turbulent sea. We stood like that for a few moments and I was startled to hear his quiet snuffling that turned into stifled sobs.

"I'm so sorry Ivo, I just don't know what to do," he whispered thickly.

"It's alright," I tried to soothe him. "We'll figure it out, okay," I assured him and he nodded before snuggling back into me. I steered him to the sofa and pulled him into my arms. He tucked his long legs beneath himself and rested against me, his fingers tracing patterns on my forearms.

I cradled him in an attempt to comfort and my heart swelled at the sheer intimacy of the moment. He gave a soft sigh as I kissed him on the top of his head and inhaled the sweet smell of his shampoo. I had been so wrong about this boy.