Smoke Me.

Chapter 10: Bittersweet

AN: New chapter? So soon? Yes. I wanted to post a new chapter on Easter, but I am not sure I will be able to. Then I thought not a lot of you guys will have time to read it as well.
Hence, early Easter present! I might update a few days after since I already have the next chapter and I like it too much so I can't wait to let you guys read it. I haven't decided yet though.
To avoid any misunderstanding, I want to mention soon there won't be any italics and that this :'...' will indicate thought.
Thank you all for commenting and reading.
This chapter was edited by jooniekingg.
(Early) Happy Easter!

"Why did she die?"

"She was already ill...and she was old. I guess it was time."

"Don't say that."
I took his hands out of the jacket and held them in an attempt to comfort him.

I couldn't look him in the eyes anymore, however.

I should've figured something was up. I should've acted nicer. Shit... I am horrible.

"I am sorry," I whispered.

"Again, it's not your fault."

"I know, but I should've been there to help. I should've... been with you at the funeral or something."
"I know you would if I would've invited you but who wants to go to a funeral?" He asked with an exhausted brief chuckle.
"I do!"

"Stop lying." He tried to pull his hands away, but I didn't let him.

"If someone whom I loved had died, wouldn't you have wanted to go to the funeral with me?"
He sighed and admitted, "Probably."
"Are you sure you wouldn't have lied and only said it to make me feel better?"
"No. I guess I didn't think about it like that..."
"Think about it like that. If you would want to do it for me then I would want to do it for you."
"I don't think that applies to everything."
"It does."
"No, trust me, it doesn't." He appeared genuinely amused as if he was referring to something specific, but I was afraid to ask and my mind drew a blank when he embraced me immediately after.

It was as if the warmest blanket had covered me.

"What wouldn't it apply to?" I tried to make myself heard but the sound of my voice was small and muffled by his arms and clothes.

"Shh."

We stood like that for a long, long time.

He walked me home. I was a bit scared that my brother might be upstairs near a window or worse, on his way home, but I still hugged him right before I went in.

I texted him a few times to see if he was alright and although his 'I'm fine' act couldn't fool me, he kept reassuring me of his well-being.

Three days later, I found myself all alone eating a cold store-bought, pre-made meal from the market when he texted me again;
"What are you doing?"
"I'm eating."
"What?"
I sent him a picture.

"That looks tragic."
"Thanks."
"Come here."
He sent me a picture of a homemade veal stew that was still on the stove and mashed potatoes that looked as soft as clouds.

I pushed the plastic tray and fork away from me as if it just occurred to me that it was expired.

"Do you like tomatoes?"
"Yes."
"Cucumbers."
"Yes, why?"
"I'm making a salad as well."
"I'm coming over."
I got up and changed my clothes in a heartbeat and stopped in the doorway when my phone beeped again.

"I know. I just told you to come over."
I frowned at his demanding self that seemed to have been born right after his grandmother died.

He no longer asked for a pencil. He demanded it. He no longer asked people to move, but he told them to get out of his way and since they were all scaredy-cats, he had them all obeying without any questions asked.