When Katerina addressed him with that idea, Ivan's own posture seemed to straighten slightly as well. "About Alexey?" he repeated, as if asking for confirmation that was really what she wanted to use the time for-- to have him being the one speaking.
But Dmitri, too, seemed to think this was a good choice on her part; he had come to know a little of Ivan through his article, but of his littlest brother, he knew virtually nothing, beyond his name. "Yes, you two grew up together, didn't you?" Dmitri followed up with some interest. Because he had come before them, the only way he'd found this out was through rumor when he passed through his hometown now and then; their father, of course, said not a word, probably because he never even had a single thought in his head his two later children.
"Until I was fourteen, and went away to school. He was eleven," Ivan replied. "Well..." he sighed then, thinking what to say, and as he crossed his legs to settle more fully where he was the chair shifted awkwardly beneath him once more. He frowned a little, but it seemed to encourage that he get on with it. "We were as similar as we were different. He was very quiet, reserved and kept to himself..." Ivan began with the similarities, "But he had this sort of inexplicable quality to him. Everyone liked Alexey-- even those who didn't know him. He was always the favorite in a group." He remembered clearly how the family they were unofficially adopted by took such a strong liking to Alyosha, even though he'd done nothing beyond be his natural self to earn such treatment. Of course, they were very nice to Ivan too, but in a different way. Yefim, the man of the house, would always see that whatever was needed for Ivan's education was seen to, and that he was encouraged to study whatever he wished and rewarded for his accomplishments, but it was different with Alexey. Alexey was the one when, at the dinner table, stories of what he'd done during the day, even if the stories were quite ordinary-- which most were, seeing as a seven year old couldn't do many extraordinary things-- were what one family member would recount to the other, and they'd all share a pleasant laugh over it. His little smile was contagious, it was impossible to be in a bad mood around him for any extended period for time. People didn't fall in love with Ivan, the way they did Alexey.
"You could insult him to his face, and he wouldn't begrudge you for it, not for a moment... he would forgive you soon after, even if he'd done nothing to deserve it." He spoke like he'd noticed this from observation, which was in part true, but also because he'd witnessed it first hand. There had been one day he'd yelled at the boy about the first quality he'd just mentioned; oh, it wasn't that he grew up to be bitter about it, he was just being a teenager prone to tumultuous moods. And being the elder of the two, it left him by default to not like his younger sibling half the time, most of the time for no reason at all (for, as had been established, there rarely was a reason to dislike the child). But he'd been really sick of it at that time, and after chewing him out, left for his own room. Alyosha had come to him less than an hour later and said he was sorry, in complete sincerity. Sorry for what? Ivan wondered at that time, For being loved? "But it wasn't any weakness that compelled him to do so," Ivan elaborated, "It was his strength."
"Hmm," Dmitri hummed, as Ivan informed him about this boy who was clearly as different from him as he was from Ivan. He thought about the things he told him, thinking he would certainly like to meet such a boy-- if only to confirm they really shared the same blood. He leaned forward to tap some of the ash off his cigarette in the ashtray on the table, before he asked, following up on that thought he had, "And what of him now?"