|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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I wish I could say I went to sleep after Loki came back but I didn't. He had fell asleep on the couch and I stood wide awake just watching the front door while I ignored the pulsing pain knocking against my brain.
I stare up at the ceiling, quietly thinking about everything that's happened in my life. What was my breaking point? When did I start feeling the depths of my heart disappearing? Breaking. Was it before or after I was raped? I couldn't tell you honestly. All I know is that I couldn't do this anymore. Something in my chest kept tugging at my heart, begging me to just let go.
I would never be okay again. I felt dirty. Disgusting. For a while I felt anger—at first I thought why was this happening to me? How dare my mother marry a man like my father? How dare my father leave his wife and son in a fire to burn? How dare he lay a hand on me? Why did Judas do this to me? Why me? What did I do to deserve it? Why did he fucking touch me? Then, a deep wave of sadness hits me. It swoops in unexpectedly and leaves a giant ache in my heart. I could feel the ache in every part of my body making it difficult for me to stand on my own two feet. It made me want to cry again and again and again.
I keep thinking why me? But then I stop and think about it because isn't it better that it was me? Wasn't it better that it was me and not my mother? Or some other girl or even boy my age. Isn't it better for me take the suffering so nobody else will?
Something hollow and dark spreads inside my chest when I try to suppress any type of feeling. I wanted to feel nothing because nothing was better than this pain that kept dragging me down but when I tried to feel nothing it didn't work. I couldn't feel numb or make the pain go away because it hurt to much but this time I wasn't angry or sad when the tears started streaming down my face. I was just tired. I was ready to give up.
I needed to find away to make it stop.
A deep sigh leaves me as I turn my head to look down at Loki. His head was resting on my lap, his face practically stuffed into the lower part of my stomach and I didn't have the heart to wake him up even if it hurt like a bitch and my legs ached from the lack of movement. I take in his features just like I always do when he lets his guard down in front of me.
His right eye was swollen shut, bruises shadowing all the way down to his jaw and his lips were busted, along with the stitches on his forehead. He looked like hell but there was something beautiful in the way he embraced it. Loki didn't care about bruises or the scars on his skin, he didn't hide or back down. He didn't avoid the mirror or grimace at the sight of it. He owns it and it makes me wish I had his kind of mindset.
When his head shifts away from my stomach with furrowed eyebrows I swallow down thickly, my heart hurting at how much pain he must be in. I reach out to smooth out those dark brows, watching as he leans into my hand—a soft sigh leaving him.
I think about what Loki told me about his best friend Astraea and my heart hurts even more because besides his brothers and Azrael, that's all he's ever had, everyone here had someone to lean on and Loki had Astraea until she got thrown into juvie. Lucio has Azrael and Kaio. Lucas has Milan and LeRoy has Nava but before I even came around, Loki only had himself to lean on. He was taking care of his brothers when Lucio disappeared but who was taking care of him?
