Before he knew it, Sunny followed Santiago into the room. Of course she did, she was the most attentive out of the siblings. She said Emiliano was an ass, and Santiago but his tongue on the words that would not come to him. He put his hands down on one of the tables in the space, holding onto the edge of the polished wood with the pressure of his frustration.
“Well don’t-“ he was going to start, but he did not finish his sentence. Emiliano was his brother, and he had missed him deeply over the years that he was gone. Often, he prayed for a day that his brother would return, imagining that all of their siblings could come together in an embrace that was no longer possible since the death of Mattias. It was supposed to be a warm, euphoric moment, but the reality was not. In place of his worries that his brother were safe, he now asked himself if Emilio was ever in danger at all. There wasn’t a reason to try and defend him.
A short, but too-long few seconds of silence echoed between them before the man followed them through the door.
”The ass is here!” He boasted, champagne glass in hand, sparkling in the dramatic of the moment.
”Sorry, did I keep you guys waiting?” Emiliano asked them, and Santiago finally turned, sliding his hands back on the surface of the table as he leaned back against it. “Nope. Right on time. For when I called you, though, not your reappearance.”
His reply was sarcastic, and said the most earnest way he could manage to speak in the moment. Of course, Emiliano deflected, advertising drinks to him and their sister pretending that either of them were going to move from their places. One could suppose that his acting knowledge had gotten rusty, because it was clear that there was no preserving their happy family image after he returned the way that he did, and if he had really digested the atmosphere of this scene, then he would have known that.
“A drink would be nice, but I’ll pass for now. You didn’t notice but I finished mine before you came in,” He commented, taking in the view of the outside of the yacht through its glass walls that Emilio should have been looking through, as he clearly heard past it when Sunny insulted him.
The remaining waiter decided to leave, holding a tray of hors d’oeuvres. He seemed to sense the tension that had started to rise, and in a simple smile, Santiago thanked him for respecting their privacy as he walked past them. Whatever he was holding back before was free game now, so he could do as he pleased. He just didn’t know whether or not he wanted to do that. Earrings, and new musician dress-code aside, he was still a dignified man, and he did not intend to cross the line. Not yet, at least.
“You could have called,” he crossed his arms over the red of his shirt, relaxing. Santiago had decided to calm himself, as he knew that they were alone now, and the moment was real. Somewhere in-between the desperation that he felt before, and the anger that he felt now, the primary thing that lay was disappointment.
“Why didn’t you?”