|2nd Book in The Devil May Care Series|
They're more alike than they think.
At war with himself, Loki struggles to get his life on track. He struggles with manic depression-in other words, bipolar. He feels alone, trapped in his own mind as he refus...
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"You've been avoiding me." Lucio drawls, lazily as he leans onto the counter of the kitchen. I made the mistake of walking downstairs since nobody told me this asshole was coming over.
I roll my eyes, "Yeah. I've been to busy snorkeling crack with the crackheads next door." I retort, shrugging like it's no big deal.
He glares, "That's not fucking funny." He hisses.
I swallow down my laugh, "Just saying what you've been thinking." I state, looking in the fridge for something to eat. I haven't touched any drugs since last Wednesday, since I last spoke to Eris. I've been trying to stay away so that I can be better for her but it's hard, withdrawals have been a fucking bitch and I felt like I was fucking dying half of the time. I couldn't even leave my room sometimes because my body hurt so fucking much.
My body was practically begging to touch a drug but I refuse, even when it's hard.
My eyes scan the full fridge, I had went grocery shopping yesterday with LeRoy since he wouldn't shut the hell up about being hungry. "What are you doing here?" I ask my older brother, whose silent. My eyes falling onto the chopped up watermelon in the fridge that Azrael cut up for me yesterday. A small smile pulls at my lips, she didn't forget.
"I just wanted to apologize." He admits, quietly.
I pull the watermelon out, grabbing a water bottle as well before closing the fridge. "For what?" I furrow my eyebrows, confused.
"For automatically thinking you relapsed." He sighs, "I just get worried, you know?" He runs a hand through his hair, "You're my little brother and I know that when something goes wrong in your life you won't come to me because you think you can handle it. I get it." He explains, "I just want you to be okay. I want you to be safe and happy but I also want you to know that if you ever do relapse and you need me, I'm here." He reassures, his dark arises comforting and it makes me feel like he knows.
He continues, "LeRoy told me about how you reacted when he told you and I felt like an asshole." He admits, "I don't want you to ever feel like I don't trust you because I do. I trust you but it's not about trust. It's because I love you." He says roughly, "I love you and I worry but that doesn't mean what I said was okay." He finishes, softly. His eyes warm as he reaches out to ruffle my hair just like he did when we were younger.
Sometimes I want to punch him in the face for always making me so fucking emotional, I can't even swallow my fucking watermelon because of how tight my throat fucking feels. I sniffle, "It's okay." I shrug, blinking back my emotions. "I guess I'll forgive you." I purse my lips, even though he did nothing wrong. I was the one who fucked up.
He chuckles, "You guess?"
I chew on a piece of watermelon in response and he rolls his eyes. "So who let their cat lose on your face?" He smirks, not even realizing he gave me the perfect opportunity to finally fucking talk to him about it since I've been stalling on the subject.
