Don't I Exist?

I had thought that catching Luca looking over at me was to be the greatest thing ever. That my prime motivation was to be that. But now I realized that what I wanted to be done so badly was going to make him suffer at the same time.

He's in bed; the blankets burying his head and soon the pillow. His breathing isn't evenxxtaking large gulps of air between breaths.

And as he lays there, huddled under the thin layers of sheets, I don't dare touch him. Fearful in which he will hurt me even more than I already am. Fearful in which I will hurt him even more than he already is.

But there was once when I came over to him, cuddling him into one of my sweet embraces as he slept; one of the many times since the scene in the cinema on that dreadful day.

I held him tightly in my arms, hearing his steady breathing as he slept with the many dreamsxxmore like nightmares that drifted him off and circled through his mind.

He thinks that no one knows that his pillow's drenched in tears, that he cries himself to sleep, every other night.

But I do. I know.

Because I could see it happening. I see him crumble into pieces, pieces that not even I could put back together; puzzle back together to make the boy once known as the one I love.

It hurts to watch him hurt like this, so much, knowing that I caused it all. That I can't fix itxxand him. I'm the boy who made him like this.

I had never seen him so vulnerable; so tender. And it scares me. To see his eyes void of any emotionxxeven though they were like that before.

I try speaking to him. Whispering 'sorry's and 'please forgive me's. But he's mute and blocks out all the sounds that tries to enter his ears; my pleading, inaudible voice being one of them.

The boy is broken.

"Luca, please." I shook his slumbering bodyxxhis response of a soft snore wasn't what I was hoping for.

I traced outxxwith a trembling, pallid finger, the contours of his face; eye to eye and curve to curve. I loved how his skin felt against my touchxxfeeling so right.

I ran my hands through his lustrous hair, treasuring how it felt like silk between my fingers.

How could he be so perfect?

Luca and I were nothing alike. I was just cute while he... was beyond that. Beyond being beautiful, even beyond sexyxxnot even sexy, huh? They'd just have to come up with new word to describe Luca's appearance.

We have no resemblance whatsoever. I swear that Luca is adopted.

I question so much why we're even related, let alone brothers.