But there was something about Charlotte. She wasn't like the most prettiest girl in the world, but anyone with heart could tell that she had a beautiful heart. A heart that could easily be broken. A heart that needed to be protected.
--
Her pare...
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Peter came home late.
Not like I was waiting for him or anything.
I was sitting on the couch, trying to do some homework, when Peter slumped in. His clothes were a little rumpled, his eyes bloodshot. His hair was neat, for the most part, but it did kind of look like he tried to fix it. His shoelaces were untied too. He let out a breath when he spotted me.
"You stayed?" he whispered.
I looked at him, confused.
"Thought you would leave," Peter breathed, slapping his bag across a chair, sitting on the couch next to me.
I noticed that he stayed a distance from me.
"I think I owe you an explanation." Peter said, biting his lip.
He does? Well... ok?
What does he have to explain to me about? I mean... didn't he tell me everything I needed to know?
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"I think I owe you an explanation," I said in a breath.
I saw Charlotte's forehead wrinkle, knowing she was probably a little confused.
I had messed up good today. And I knew it would happen at some point. I was too selfish though. I wanted her so badly, I couldn't protect her from the enemy: me.
"When my parents died, I was so angry, Charlotte. Even though I had shelter, food, clothes, unlike you, I was just stuck with so much anger." I said, trying not to meet Charlotte's eyes.
"George and Jenny took me to doctors, after I..." I trailed off.
Charlotte stared at me with a blank look in her eyes.
"I- I started fires, I stole, I did drugs, I was awful. I said.
Charlotte kept staring, as if nothing had fazed her.
"They diagnosed me with MDD." I said. "I take the pills, but sometimes, it takes one word for me to blow. And that was this morning," I tried.
