Big Brothers, Little Sister

Bullying

A/N: Hello my amazing flower bouquets! 💐 I'm sorry for the lack of recent updates, since my father is kinda... controlling. However u wanna put it. He seems to hate the fact that I've found something that benefits, de-stresses and interests me! 🙃 However, yall keep me so happy! 2.1k reads? Tf? I really appreciate the feedback and votes too, the strength it gives me is gold. Anyways, this chapter is a bit chaotic, and we see a bit of Peter's character. TW: Bullying. Thanks again, enjoyyyy! 💜 

Ethan's Perspective (Third Eldest Brother, 23)

It's been a few days since Tara's 'incident', and the novelty of the situation wore off, alongside the evident embarrassment. That left our bustling household on a musty Wednesday night with the rain drizzling down the window panes, the shimmering moonlight drifting in and everyone cosily tucked into bed. Almost everyone. Author's droning voice had already muted itself in my brain, as after ten minutes of his endless lecture and worried chatter, I'd given up on focusing. My eyes had instead found their way to my youngest brother, his leaping black hair framing the piercing brown eyes, clenched jaw and  narrowed eyebrows as he glared at the phone screen. Not to brag, but I'd long mastered the skill of reading body language, especially being packed in a cage with these animals. That point aside, I doubted anyone would miss the obvious depression and anger that hovered around me brother like a resurfaced cloud of dust. As the hum of my older brother's caring words danced in the background of my thoughts, I watched Peter aggressively snap his phone shut and march upstairs into his room, directly avoiding us. Half in the world of my own thoughts, my mouth couldn't control relaying the information bottled up inside, and I distractedly let out a slight thought. "Strange, Peter."

"Ethan! Are you even listening to me? This is important. You have to attempt to, at least. And stop yourself when you can, kid."  Author's desperate words were met with a respectfully pensive nod, and I could feel the emotions cling to me, swirling within like a tornado of destruction. I felt horrible for bringing my chaotic problem to my older brother, but guilt wasn't the most prominent emotion. Author quietly noticed my distanced gaze, like he always does, and figured out my thoughts had left the situation. "We'll talk about this again later, but what else is on your mind? 

"Sorry Author, I didn't mean to burden you with my stupid problem. Anyways, It's Peter."  I interrupted my brother's chiding reassurance quickly, knowing I couldn't bare another minute of his repeated prodding into the issue. The interruption managed to gain my older brother's attention and he pushed himself to his feet hesitantly, eyes drifting towards me for instruction. As I climbed the stairs towards Peter's room, I had to make sure that Author's intense aura wouldn't throw my younger brother off. We all knew that Peter was the most withdrawn of the lot. "Try to relax. If he's not doing well, he's probably not going to appreciate us being in his face."

"Ok. I know. I'm just worried. Can't you kids give me a break."  As Author half-joked his way past me, the authoritative man I grew up with swiftly returned and took charge of the situation. I suppose it started off smoothly, generally peaceful, the calm before the storm. Peter's bedroom door creaked open slowly, both of us peeping into the dimly lit room like mischievous children in trouble. The silence didn't last long, as the scene of Peter throwing his phone across the room and erupting in a string of swear words was enough to pull the plug my Author's calm. While my older brother stormed angrily towards Peter to grab his ear, I carefully picked up his phone and set it on the bed. "Peter Carlos Field. What was that!? You better start talking."

"Calm down Author, move out and take a break. Peter, sit down. Now." My voice came out firm and steady, much unlike my anxious, confused interior. Thankfully, both of my brothers responded calmly and swiftly, yet I could feel the strained atmosphere that had settled in the room. Once Author had left the room, I handed Peter his (thankfully) undamaged phone with a frown. Then, much to his surprise, I bent forward for a tight embrace, engulfing my brother in a coat of warmth and protection. Soon, the tears burst out of his bloodshot eyes and apologies streamed out of his lips like a waterfall on the monsoon rain. After a while, my brother stepped backwards and sat down guiltily on his bed, fiddling nervously with the deep blue sheets as Author walked in. "Continue, Peter. Explain."