His Reflection

Chapter Seven • The Secret Holder

EDWARD

"We'll be back soon, how about you stay here and rest?" Marcel said to Louis, as I practically gagged from the backseat. He was so disgustingly loving and the pair were always just snuggled together or other shit like that. "And here's this, it should help with your stomach." Marcel said, reaching over and digging through the glove box and eventually grabbed the bottle that read Prilosec. He dumped a couple into his hand and handed them over to Louis.

Louis took them and closed his eyes again, giving Marcel a smile as a thank you before curling up once more.

Marcel kissed his forehead, and I groaned. "C'mon let's get on with it, I don't want to watch you be all mushy forever."

"Alright, alright." Marcel said, cracking the window a tiny bit for some fresh air and turning the car off.

"Is Louis'.. uh what's it called again? The thing that's wrong with him?" I asked once we were a few steps away from the car, "Is it getting better?"

"His cachexia? No it's not, I'm trying to keep him well fed." He sighed, "It's really hard though, he has no appetite, but I have to make sure he eats. But he's doing alright, thankfully his isn't related to cancer or any underlying diseases, which usually cachexia is."

"Right," I nodded. "That sucks, he's lucky to have you to help."

"Yeah... honestly there's a good chance he wouldn't be alive if I wasn't keeping him eating." He said as we approached the front door of the old house, which was practically falling apart.

I nodded, honestly not knowing what to say. Louis had such a range of health issues, and I just felt bad for him. I'm certain he wasn't getting the proper help he needs, there's things that I'm sure could help, but given his living situation, it didn't seem like more intense and thorough treatment was possible. I'm no expert though.

My father was sitting at the table when we walked in. 3 hefty bags sat on the table in front of him. "Hi boys, love what you've done with the place." He said sarcastically. We didn't come out here often. We mostly came out for occasional drug deals, which usually were handled by Marcel or Harry. Needless to say, the house was pretty rundown.

I gave a small laugh, I hadn't seen my dad in forever. He's never been the softest or kindest father, but he's the only one I've got so I try to appreciate the time I get with him for what it is. Not only is he generally an unsympathetic guy, but on top of that, I've always been his least favorite. My whole life I've been determined to change that and I think just maybe, I could work myself up to at least the second favorite.

"Edward? What are you doing here?" He asked, looking between Marcel and I. "Where's Harry?"

"Harry couldn't come today, I don't know what he's up to. He's been weird lately, ever since our friend passed." Marcel explained.

"What? What friend? Please tell me it's not the one who has been doing the accounting," he muttered, looking irritated.

"It.. um. It was him, yeah." Marcel replied, looking sheepish as if it was somehow his fault that Niall was gone.

"Well, fuck." He sighed, closing his eyes and thinking for a moment. "So does this mean you don't have the paperwork? You know I always need to see those documents."

"Yeah, um... we don't. I'm going to have them next time you're here. I swear." Marcel said, I could hear the tremble in his voice.

"I guess we don't have an option. I'll just have to trust that you'll have them next time."

"I promise we will dad. Without even looking at the papers, I know that we're doing well. We made plenty at the last exchange." Marcel told him, as I just stood and listened.