Gracious

Chapter 9

A/N - I'm alive I'm alive 🫶🏾

Like I said, one of my fav chapters so far❤️...

TW: potentially upsetting scenes towards the end

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The kitchen looked like a fucking bomb had hit it, and the culprit? Well he was washing his hands over the sink, his back to me, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Are you gonna talk to me?", I leaned against the doorway, watching his back tense as he shut off the taps, "you scared them Prescott".

"And I'm sorry, okay?", he snapped, turning around and giving me a full view of his tear stained cheeks, "I don't know what the fuck happened". He wiped his palms on his trousers and glanced over at the table, glass fragments all over it as well as the spilled drink and his drenched work.

"It all got too much", I told him and his eyes met mine, "you've probably felt like shit for ages, haven't said anything, and this was the final blow".

"You don't need more shit on your plate-,", I wasn't having that.

"I am your older brother", I stepped towards him slowly, "your shit is my shit, and I don't want you to hide it from me because you think I'm going through enough".

"You are going through enough", he groaned, "you think I'm stupid cuz I'm younger, but you're forgetting that I've seen almost everything you have Zane- I know you".

"And still, now that he's gone, it's my job to take care of you, not the other way around", I said sternly, "not up for discussion". He fisted his hair in both hands and groaned, taking a step back and clenching his jaw; I know he wanted nothing more than to protect me, to know what was going on 24/7, but it wasn't his job.

It was nobody's but mine.

"Why do you do this?", he asked, his voice cracking, "you pretend it's all fine- that you're fine...but you're not. I know you're not, you know you're not- so why don't you let me help?".

"You are 14 years old Prescott, a child", I stepped towards him, prying his hands from his hair and dropping them at his sides, "I have no expectations of you, you shouldn't have to help".

"But I want to", he wiped at his eyes harshly, getting rid of the tears before they'd had a chance to fall, "can't you see that I want to help? I want to make you proud". That was like a punch to the gut, the fact that he felt he wasn't doing that already.

"And what gave you the idea that you weren't making me proud already?", I raised an eyebrow, crouching down slightly so we were eye level, "you make me proud daily, even just by getting out of bed".

"You're just saying that", he shook his head, casting his gaze away from me, "I try to do well in school, look after the boys, but I can't even do that...no wonder Mama left".

And that? That was more like a slap to the face.

It was no secret that Prescott had the closest relationship with our mother, and when she walked out, it hit him on a level that it didn't hit the rest of us on; yet he hadn't spoken about her in what felt like forever.

"You miss her", I stated, watching his jaw clench as he refused to give me eye contact, an almost missable nod coming from him which made me cup a hand behind his head and pull him into my chest, "her leaving had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with him".

"I don't know why she did it", he sniffed as I rubbed his back slowly, "I mean, I know why, but she left us Zane- she left us with him".

"And I hope it eats her alive for the rest of her life", I told him, meaning every word, "but it's okay to miss her too, I do too sometimes".