"We fought an uphill battle. One we had no hope of winning."
~~~
Felicity-Flick as most call her-Carter, has learned a thing or two in her 12 years of life. How to deal with drunk parents without waking the neighbors, how to smoke a cigarette withou...
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"Hey, kid, wake up,"
A hand shook my arm gently, effectively yanking me out of the peaceful sleep I had fallen into what felt like only moments ago. I groaned and tried to roll over, but something heavy on my shoulders stopped me before I could.
Slowly, I opened my eyes, blinking at the harsh light filling my bedroom.
"You awake?" Jules chuckled, and suddenly I realized that his voice was way too close for my liking.
"Oh shit," I yelled, practically throwing myself forward when I realized where I was. "Shit!" My back slammed against the wall in front of us, but I didn't feel the sting of my head colliding with the solid force.
"Flick, what's wrong, what happened, why are you freaking out?" Jules asked, seeming genuinely confused by my reaction. I pulled my knees to my chest and dipped my head into my lap, frustration, anger, and disgust coursing through me like a river.
"Why the fuck do you think I'm freaking out, Jules, I woke up on your fucking lap, that's so fucking weird and gross!" I exclaimed, not picking my head up to gauge his reaction.
Last night was a blur of emotion in my brain. A whirlwind of pain, sadness, and confusion. I couldn't tell you what happened after I left the apartment yesterday afternoon. Most of what happened, anyway. I remembered the lie. The confession. The anger. And after that, I remembered the hurt. The breaking. The final straw.
But I didn't remember this.
Him being so close to me. Me allowing him to be so close.
"What, why is that weird and gross?" He asked, sounding a little wounded.
To be fair, I wasn't entirely sure why I thought it was so weird and gross to be within a two-foot radius of someone I shared DNA with, but something about it just seemed wrong after all the time I've spent avoiding him over the last few days. Just in the last 48 hours, I had snapped at him like a rabid dog just for brushing against me, and now, I was sitting in front of him, cursing my weakness and wondering how the hell I allowed myself to fall so deep into my sorrow that all those walls I had so skillfully put up, had come crashing down in a matter of one night.
"Fuck," I hissed quietly to myself, unable to come up with a real answer to his question that wouldn't sound stupid and childish. Although, I seemed to be on a roll with stupid and childish decisions, so why stop now? I groaned pathetically, wrapping my arms around the back of my head as if that would protect me from all the things I didn't want to think or feel. It didn't. Nothing ever did.
"Flick, take a breath, everything's okay. You were pretty upset last night, and I took care of you," Jules hadn't moved from his spot in front of me. I could almost feel the apprehension and uncertainty radiating off him. He didn't know how to feel any more than I did. "Just like a big brother should," His voice was well below a whisper. Like he didn't quite want me to hear. Just in case it was the wrong thing to say. "That's all, Flick. I was just trying to be a good brother." Slowly, I picked my head up and glared at him. I didn't have to say it out loud for both of us to know what I was going to say.
