He was a calm, decisive, acute man. He had to be. He was a doctor, after all, and to go through all the medical schooling, all the patients, all the irritating insurance companies and all the late nights spent bent over research papers telling of the newest medicinal findings, he didn't have time for emotions.
Mathias had watched Lukas's progression through the years. He hadn't always been so callous, sharp, and aloof. There was once a time when the young man, as a child, as a teenager, as a young man, had passed his time staring up at the sky, dreaming up spells, imagining a new world, a better one. Lukas had been a hopeless romantic once, though even then he had kept it a secret behind a shy pout and glaring eyes, but those days were long gone. The platinum blond had wanted to be an author, -- the next J.K. Rowling -- but his parents did not want him to be a starving artist. Junior and senior year Lukas had spent growing increasingly disinterested in his childhood dreams. Mathias did