𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹𝟷

ISABELLE

MARCUS PACES IN FRONT OF THE DOOR, lips pursed and a distressed look on his face. Sighing softly, I lean my head back against the wall, wrapping my arms around my knees and wiggling my butt on the hard, laminate floor.

"Marc!" I groan, "You're making me dizzy. Just sit down!" He's been doing this for hours now. I understand why, he's worried about Kane, but the kids gonna wear himself out with how much he's walking.

"I can't!" He throws his arms up in frustration, stopping, "Did you see him? His state. God, he looked awful." He begins to pace again, one arm wrapped around his stomach while his other hand pinches at his lip.

Sighing, i let my head drop, chin hitting my chest, tears burning my eyes and guilt filling me, almost making me feel as if I'm drowning.

I should've found him sooner. I should've been there with him when he found out the news about his dads passing. Why wasn't I there?

Look at him.

Fucking look at him.

He looks a mess. So lost. He looks helpless and fragile. I don't know how to make this okay. How to help him. He won't tell us what he's taken or how long he's been doing them for.

Is this his coping mechanism?

Marcus stops pacing all of a sudden, crouching down and tutting sympathetically, quickly wrapping his arms around me and bringing me tightly close to him, holding me.

I cry into his chest, not moving from my position but letting myself be held. Comforted. Marcus cries with me. I can hear his quiet sniffles. I can feel wetness on my head, rolling down.

We cry silently together. Selfishly, I let him hold me while I ruin his T-shirt once again. What would I do without him? What would I do. ..

"He'll be okay."

I don't know who says it. I'm thinking these words but I have no idea who said them. Was it me or Marcus?

"He'll be okay." I murmur aloud, choking on a sob, clenching my eyes so tightly, I can see colours. "We'll be okay."

Marcus said that. He said that and those words I don't believe. I can't find it in me to believe them. Nothing will be okay or the same after this. Nothing.

"He's still out?" Marcus yawns, stretching his arms above his head, sitting up from his lying position on the sofa and letting his legs fall, socked covered feet touching the ground.

"Yeah," I nod, wrapping the blanket tightly around me, "I just checked on him 5 minutes ago. He hasn't moved a inch."

Marcus freezes at my words, head bowed down and I already know what he's thinking. He hasn't moved an inch.

That wasn't a good way to word it. I realise that now.

"He's breathing!" I add on quickly, smiling softly when I see Marcus breathe in relief, "I checked."

It was hard not to check though. He looked dead. So lifeless. Just lying flat on the bed on his back, looking up at the ceiling, eyes closed, arms limp beside him and chest rising ever so lightly.

His breathes are coming out in broken heaves. Whatever he's taken, it's fucking up his lungs. His nose seems blocked too.

"What do we do when he wakes up?" I let the question linger in the air before answering, wanting to gather my thoughts.

What do we do? How can we help him? Does he even want our help?

"Uh," I clear my throat, hands fisting the blanket, "I guess we have to listen and- uh just be there for him. He's vulnerable right now so we have to be patient and let him know we are here for him."

Marcus nods, getting to his feet and walks to the kitchen without another word. I slump my head back, hitting the sofa head softly, letting my eyes close and inhale deeply.

"Bells?"

"Yeah?"

"You want summa to eat?" He shouts back, waiting for my answer. I shake my head, almost slapping my face once I remember he can't see me.

"No thanks, Marc! Am good."

I don't get a reply back, only met with the soft music of Harry Styles playing. A small, involuntary smile makes its way onto my face at the song playing, getting comfortable on the sofa and almost feeling content.

"Turn it up!" I holler, snorting when I hear his reply. "Aye, aye, capt'n!" He chuckles, turning the music up higher and letting the soft, soothing voice of Harry Styles fills the house.

I sing the lyrics in my head, trying to focus on them instead of the broken boy upstairs. If I want to help him, I need to be strong. We need to be strong. He's my first priority now.

"I'm changing it!" I suddenly hear, eyes snapping open and mouth ready to shout back 'No!' But he interrupts me as if he knows what I'm gonna say. "I'm putting Daylight on."

Chuckling, I nod to myself, a yawn leaving my mouth and eyes snapping shut again, falling back into my comfortable position. "Okay." I mumble to myself, feeling tired.

But I'm not gonna sleep. I wanna be here for Kane. Wanna be here when he wakes up. Want to show him I care and love him.

"Bells?" I almost groan in annoyance, mumbling out a aspirated, "What!?"

He chuckles, popping his head in, "I'm going to make pasta, so if you're hungry, they'll be some on the stove. Also enough for Kane." He informs and I nod, throwing a thumbs up and he snorts, raising an eyebrow when he sees my thumbs under my blanket so you can exactly see it.

"Fuck off." I whine, eyes furrowing and tiredness taking over me. Marcus childishly sticks his tongue out at me and disappears again.

I hum softly to the song playing, fingers tracing my tattoo, scowling when I feel tears sting my eyes and I almost punch myself in the face for letting myself touch it again.

For fuck sake, Belle. Man the fuck up. He's the one in pain, not you.