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Tw: slight implications of an ED, talk of mental health issues
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐑𝐀𝐃 Fisher liked to think that he was one of the people that knew Flora best. In reality, he was. But still, there was a lot he didn't know about Flora. Especially in light of their mother's death, the siblings felt as though everything, and everyone was slipping away.
However, there was one thing Conrad did know about Flora and that was that Cousins beach was her favorite place. So naturally, when she went missing, Conrad knew exactly where to find his younger sister.
Conrad opened the door to the beach house, calling his sister's name. It was early in the morning, the first morning sunrise barely peeking through the sky. The Fisher boy heard no response and began to trudge up the stairs, hoping to find his sister.
Flora was asleep, covered by only the sheet of her bed, the covers strewn, hanging half off the bed. Conrad felt his chest relax slightly, seeing his sister safe, tucked into the bed in the beach house.
Conrad crept over, wondering if he should wake the sleeping girl and decided not to. She looked frailer, skinnier from the last time he'd seen her. The grief was showing on both the siblings. He tucked in the sheet and blanket, just the way he knew how to do and the way he knew Flora loved because it reminded her of hotel bedding.
Conrad lightly threw the cover over her and walked out of the room. That little idiot he thought to himself, seeing how worried sick he'd been when she hadn't been texting or calling back. He didn't bother to try and get some sleep himself, instead he kept himself busy with cleaning up (which there wasn't much at all to clean) and anything to keep him busy.
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Flora inhaled the scent of her clean bedsheets. They smelled like home. They smelled like the beach house. For a minute, Flora felt more at ease than she had in a long time. She stretched out, remembering how she'd taken off without warning, tears flowing, heart hurting.
Flora's head ached, as she remembered the fact that she'd also gotten drunk, the night prior, sipping on the beach and then collapsing into bed. The Fisher girl got up, pulling the covers off of her and stopped suddenly. The sheets were tucked in precisely just how her oldest brother made the bed. He had been there at some point while she was there.
Confused, Flora trudged out of her room and down the stairs. She sighed as her head pounded and stopped in the kitchen, seeing her brother hunched over the sink back facing her.
"What're you doing here?" Flora asked, her voice a bit raspy and deep from her sleep. She hadn't forgotten her anger at Conrad.
"Morning, Flo." He spoke. The two siblings looked tired and frail, grief evident in their appearance.
