Constant Recovery
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He found me again. I didn't even fade off yet. How disappointing.
He's cautious at first, but by the end of our journey, I can tell he's getting aggravated. There's only so long I can lean on him, after all. It's something I've always known.
I force myself to sit up from the awkward, crumpled position he left me in. His eyes burn the side of my face, so I turn to meet his gaze with a biting stare of my own. Even so, I know what my brother wants me to do. I know what I want to do.
Why can't I just do it? I wonder, trying to reach inside my mind with invisible hands and pull it out from all the bullshit brewing in there. What is stopping me from reaching out and taking his hand, my lifeline?
I turn away from his eyes and look at the night sky above us. I don't know how long it is before I gather myself to speak, but it shatters through the darkness like a goddamn bullet.
"Dad will be home soon," I rasp, fighting off the urge to clear my throat.
He looks at me, then nods. "You should take a shower," he adds, not asking. I shrug and kick at the stonework underneath my feet before standing up.
I'm almost at the door before I feel a weight slam against my back, knocking my shoulder into the doorframe uncomfortably. My neck cranes as much as it can, until I can see my brother's face pressed against the back of my neck.
"Thanks," I mutter, shaking him off and feeling like a complete asshole even as I do it. He rubs his chin against his shoulder, stays quiet. But even now, like this, I know that he gets what I'm saying. Or trying to say. I'm not all that sure of it myself.
"Don't," he says as I turn to walk through the door. "Just don't."
I know what he's asking, but I still don't know if I can promise it. I want to. But I don't think I know how, after all of this.
So I do the second best thing that I can, glue my index and middle fingers together and tap them above my eyebrow. His eyes shift back and forth for a second, but if there's any hope left deep down in his chest, he shuts it down long before it reaches anywhere that I could see.
I head inside without another protest.
He's cautious at first, but by the end of our journey, I can tell he's getting aggravated. There's only so long I can lean on him, after all. It's something I've always known.
I force myself to sit up from the awkward, crumpled position he left me in. His eyes burn the side of my face, so I turn to meet his gaze with a biting stare of my own. Even so, I know what my brother wants me to do. I know what I want to do.
Why can't I just do it? I wonder, trying to reach inside my mind with invisible hands and pull it out from all the bullshit brewing in there. What is stopping me from reaching out and taking his hand, my lifeline?
I turn away from his eyes and look at the night sky above us. I don't know how long it is before I gather myself to speak, but it shatters through the darkness like a goddamn bullet.
"Dad will be home soon," I rasp, fighting off the urge to clear my throat.
He looks at me, then nods. "You should take a shower," he adds, not asking. I shrug and kick at the stonework underneath my feet before standing up.
I'm almost at the door before I feel a weight slam against my back, knocking my shoulder into the doorframe uncomfortably. My neck cranes as much as it can, until I can see my brother's face pressed against the back of my neck.
"Thanks," I mutter, shaking him off and feeling like a complete asshole even as I do it. He rubs his chin against his shoulder, stays quiet. But even now, like this, I know that he gets what I'm saying. Or trying to say. I'm not all that sure of it myself.
"Don't," he says as I turn to walk through the door. "Just don't."
I know what he's asking, but I still don't know if I can promise it. I want to. But I don't think I know how, after all of this.
So I do the second best thing that I can, glue my index and middle fingers together and tap them above my eyebrow. His eyes shift back and forth for a second, but if there's any hope left deep down in his chest, he shuts it down long before it reaches anywhere that I could see.
I head inside without another protest.
♠ ♠ ♠
I only meant to do this to myself.