train wreck ✓

seventy-eight.

"i'm fine," that was his excuse every time he was asked if he wanted to go to therapy.

we'd been spending time at his family's house, he needed support although his brother jesse told him to man up, "miles, stop being such a brat and admit you need help."

it'd been weeks and he hadn't once mentioned travis but miles was obviously conflicted. he strongly disliked the guy, sure, but watching someone die was messing him up.

i'd let it go when he'd hotly replied a simple, "leave me alone, jess, i'm fucking fine."

but later that night when he was shaking and crying in his sleep, i couldn't take it.

"miles," i was slapping his face lightly to wake him up, his violent trembles and thrashing being the cause of my worry.

i'd become an insomniac.

"miles," my hand was shaking him when his eyes snapped open, tears in them as he stared up at me in the dark.

and he was sitting up, head in his hands as i rubbed comforting circles on his back.

"i-i can't stop seeing it... i can't stop seeing him and the blood and the way his eyes changed as he died. georgia, what's wrong with me?"

i was fishing for words, his eyes bloodshot as he started to become distant again, "maybe it should've been me, maybe it-"

"no, miles, we're not going through this again, okay? that was travis' choice. when i heard that gunshot, i heard him yelling at someone, i don't know what i would've done if it wasn't you he was yelling at. i wanted you to be alive; i fucking needed you to be alive,"

he wasn't ignoring me but he was getting better; at least he was talking about it, "he wasn't all bad, he just dealt with a lot of shit and didn't make great decisions," he let out a shaky breath, "you know, i overheard his parents discussing how he didn't deserve it and i just know they blame me. why do bad things keep happening to their family?"

and i didn't have an answer but i had two arms to hold him. i had a variety of songs to sing to him, i had sentiments that i could whisper and that's exactly what i did.

i sunk into him and his arms wrapped around me and his head buried in my neck, hands right above my hips, "just try and get some sleep miles, we'll talk in the morning. there's this really nice therapist that my mom went to when she was going through her first divorce with my dad. he helped her with her depression."

but miles didn't agree, "no."

"miles, c'mon..."

he was whining adorably as he pulled away slightly, grasping my hand in his, warmth spreading through me in a way only he knew how. his forehead was resting on mine, "why should i tell some stranger my problems? i have you and you're all i need."

"your morning breath reeks, bro," i mumbled so he laughingly pulled me into a kiss that i declined, turning my face so he couldn't change the subject, "you need to be independent regardless of the fact that you have me. i love you and i need you to get better and back to yourself, you want that right?"

his hands drew me closer as be got back to our previous position, "georgia..."

i rubbed the back of his neck before running my hands through his hair and placing a small kiss on his cheek, "i promise you only have to go once, if you don't like it, we'll figure out something else, just try for me? please?"

"will there be chicken tenders?"

i let out a laugh, recalling when he'd first asked that and then where we were that day, the progress we'd made astonishing, "of course there'll be chicken tenders."

--

a/n:
#milorgie for life.