Chocolate shadows

**Chapter 4: Chocolate shadows **

The warm glow of the setting sun cast a serene ambiance across the family dining room as they gathered for dinner. Irina's eyes were drawn to her elder brother Alex, who sat across from her. Even amidst the clatter of utensils and the chatter of their parents, the furrow on his brow didn't go unnoticed.

"Alex," Irina began, her voice soft as she attempted to navigate the curiosity that had been brewing within her, "you seem a bit off today. Is everything okay?"

Alex's gaze flicked up to meet hers, his expression momentarily guarded before he offered a fleeting smile. "Yeah, just some stuff on my mind. Don't worry about it."

She could sense the evasiveness in his response, but before she could press further, he changed the subject with practiced ease. "Oh, speaking of worries, I picked up something that might help you forget yours." He reached beside his chair and presented a box of chocolates, her favorite.

A surprised grin tugged at Irina's lips as she accepted the offering. "Wow, thanks, Alex. You really know how to brighten a mood."

As the conversation shifted, Irina's focus momentarily drifted to the sweet treat. She excused herself to get some water from the kitchen, taking the opportunity to sneak a chocolate or two from the box. The familiar taste brought a momentary distraction from her brother's apparent concerns.

As she savored the chocolate, her younger brother Vasily suddenly burst into the kitchen with theatrical flair, his eyes widening at the sight of her indulgence. He paused dramatically, hand over his heart, and let out an exaggerated gasp.

"Chocolate thievery!" Vasily exclaimed, his voice dripping with mock astonishment. "And without me? The betrayal!"

Irina couldn't help but chuckle at her brother's over-the-top response. "Oh, Vasily, you and your dramatic entrances. You're like a character straight out of a cartoon."

He struck a pose, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, someone has to keep the entertainment level high around here."

Her laughter continued to bubble as she playfully ruffled his hair. "Entertainment, indeed."

A memory from their childhood flashed in her mind. Irina decided to share it with Vasily, making the atmosphere even lighter. "Hey, remember that time you took my sports bra to school because your teacher said you had to look sporty for swimming class?"

Vasily's eyes widened in mock horror. "Oh no, you're not going to tell that story again, are you?"

Irina nodded, a grin tugging at her lips. "Oh yes, I am."

The dinner table flooded with laughter as they were reminded of this heart warming memories.

Dinner continued in a symphony of clinking cutlery and the soft murmur of conversation. Irina's focus, however, remained fixed on her elder brother Alex, whose mood still seemed somewhat distant despite the shared meal. She took another bite of her food, her eyes flicking up every now and then to check on him.

Alex's usual role during dinner was to be the family's resident joker, his witty remarks often earning chuckles even from their stern father. But tonight, he seemed subdued, eating his meal with an uncharacteristic calmness.

Irina's concern grew, and she toyed with the idea of asking her father, who was seated next to her, about Alex's unusual behavior. She knew, though, that her father's sharp tongue often carried an undercurrent of judgment. Asking about Alex's mood might lead to an uncomfortable revelation of her brother's worries.

She glanced at her father, the temptation to inquire evident in her expression. His stern demeanor was softened by the warm glow of the dining room lights, but his presence was enough to make her hesitate. She knew that if she asked, her father would likely redirect her query in a way that emphasized why she should be asking him and not Alex.

As she contemplated her next move, her gaze shifted to Alex once more. He was engaged in conversation with their mother, his smile masking the turmoil that Irina sensed beneath the surface. She couldn't help but feel a pang of worry for him, a desire to bridge the distance she sensed.

But in the midst of these thoughts, her father's voice cut through the air. "Irina, pass me the salt, would you?"

Her hand automatically reached for the salt shaker, and she handed it to her father. It was a simple request, yet it felt like a reminder that there were topics best left untouched. As if her father's unspoken words were saying, "Focus on the salt, not on prying into your brother's affairs."

Irina nodded, her gaze dropping to her plate. She took another bite of her food, the flavors momentarily masking her concerns. It was a familiar dance—one where the unsaid often held more weight than the spoken.

As the meal continued, Irina found herself engaging in light conversation with her parents and Vasily, all the while stealing glances at Alex. She longed to reach out to him, to offer some form of support, but the unwritten rules of their family dynamics felt like barriers she couldn't breach.

As dessert arrived, her father shared a story that elicited a rare chuckle from Alex. Irina's heart warmed at the sound, even as she realized that her brother's laughter was a fleeting glimpse of the bond they once shared.