Taff backed up against the sofa, wishing he could disappear inside of it rather than face his brother's wrath. Tristan rarely got angry, but he could see it was more than that. He was hurt.
He shook his head, his eyes brimming slightly, "No! No, Trist I-I don't hate you!" I love you. He took a deep breath, lifting his hand to his mouth to exhale, as if he were coughing. He glanced down and added softly, "I... I just didn't want you to catch it too."