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August was sitting casually at the kitchen table when Fred carefully approached me.
I was behind the kitchen island, preparing myself a snack because my blood sugar was low.
Fred leaned his hip against the island and looked down at me.
"I'm leaving for work." He told me, his hand brushing over my hip where August couldn't see from where he sat.
Fred's voice was quiet.
August knew about us, but that didn't mean we wanted to walk around shoving it in his face. Fred was being careful right now, and I understood it.
"You open at ten, right?" I asked, looking towards the clock on the wall, and Fred nodded.
I sighed. "It doesn't feel like it's only ten in the morning. So much has happened."
"Yeah." Fred exhaled. "I was thinking about coming back here when everyone else are sleeping? Will you let me in?"
I nodded.
"Will you spend the night?" I asked, glancing at August who was staring at us, but his expression gave away that he couldn't hear what we were talking about.
"If you want me to."
"I do."
"Then I guess I'll be spending the night." He smiled, his hand leaving my hip.
He grabbed one of the strawberries on the chopping board and threw it into his mouth.
"I'll see you tonight. Just ignore August, yeah?"
"That'll be easy enough, as he isn't speaking to me."
Fred gave me a sad smile before turning towards August.
"I'm off to work. Can you tell George to get his arse going? I won't open up alone."
August nodded once, and Fred left the kitchen, leaving me in an awkward silence with my older brother.
He was no longer looking at me. He had gone back to whatever he was doing. He sat at the table with a cup of coffee and a magazine. A magazine he didn't really seem interested in.
I glanced at him from time to time, wanting him to talk to me, even if to just yell.
Honestly, I don't know what's worse. Having August yell at you, or having him act like you don't exist.
Probably the latter.
I was chopping strawberries into smaller pieces, and as I stared at August a second too long, the knife slipped and I yelped as it sliced right into the palm of my hand.
"Fuck!" I exclaimed, letting the knife drop to the floor along with drops of my blood.
Harvey was suddenly by my side, having been in the middle of entering the kitchen when the knife slipped.
