Periwinkle

19| HAMMERED

LEO'S POV

The front door creaked open, carrying in a gust of wind. I glanced up from my script, my eyebrows going up in surprise. There stood Shane, my usually stoic brother, looking like a drowned rat with his usually impeccable clothes rumpled and hair disheveled.

"Woah, Michelangelo," I called out, putting the script down. "Who did you piss off so royally that turned you into this walking disaster?"

He kicked off his shoes, sending them tumbling into the corner.

"Shut it, Leo," he mumbled, his voice gruff like sandpaper. He stumbled into the living room, his face looking more flushed than usual. He shrugged off his coat, revealing a rumpled shirt and a slightly askew tie.

Now, I knew Shane like the back of my hand. The only time he sounded and looked like this was when he was clearly drunk. But I hadn't seen him this drunk for a very, very long time. If he was drunk, it meant that something must've shaken him enough for him to pick up a bottle. And making him do that shit was not easy.

"Did the museum crowd not dig your interpretive dance during the Renaissance exhibit?" I teased in an attempt to lighten the mood, standing up to follow him into the kitchen. "Maybe you should stick to the PowerPoint next time, ditch the pirouettes."

I grinned when he shot me a look that could curdle milk and, in a voice that was a stark contrast to his usual professional baritone, said, "Mind your own goddamn business."

He poured himself a glass of water, ignoring me completely. I leaned against the island, keeping my distance from him in case he decided to throw a punch or two at me. I wouldn't blame him if he did, especially since he was drunk. I just couldn't help it. Teasing Shane was like breathing, only more fun. I loved to irritate the fuck out of him. Even if it meant a potential black eye, it would be worth it.

"Aw, come on," I whined, putting on my puppy-dog eyes and giving him an innocent look. "Did you hear me getting lucky earlier, and finally realized how much you're missing out?"

Shane choked on his water, sputtering. I couldn't help but let out a laugh at that. His expression was even better than what I had imagined. He was turning all red in the face, even after he calmed down from his choking fit. The look on his face was priceless-a mix of annoyance, surprise, and a hint of something else I couldn't quite place.

The girl I'd gotten lucky with had left pretty quickly after she had recovered enough to get up. I loved the little limp she had while she had gone around her business making herself presentable again for the public. I honestly wished she had stayed a while longer, to just hang out or maybe a second round after a while. But she had said she had work to do, so she had to go.

I sobered up a bit when Shane's shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh that seemed to come from his very core.

"But seriously, what's wrong?" I asked gently. "You haven't been hammered since... to be honest, I don't even remember when the last time was."

He glared at me, but it lacked its usual heat. "I'm not drunk, just a little tipsy," he grumbled.

His words took me back to the night when Kara had insisted the same. Before she gave me a blowjob, which might as well be the best one I'd ever received. I almost smiled at the memory but stopped when Shane sighed again.

"Just... life, I guess," he murmured. "It's a Caravaggio painting sometimes, all shadow and drama."

I had no idea who the hell he was talking about. When he noticed me blankly staring at him, he said, "I just had a bad day, Leo."

He then straightened up to his full height and made his way towards the door. As he passed by me, I heard a muttered, "I need to sleep."

"Mom called," I said, stopping him in his tracks. He turned back, a question in his eyes.

"She wants to throw a graduation party," I explained, "says it's important for networking and building my image."

"When?" he asked, his voice tinged with resignation.

"In about a couple of weeks. She's offering to help with it."

He gave a curt nod, but his eyes remained distant. Sure, he'd brushed me off, but I knew him well enough to see the vulnerability beneath the gruff exterior.

I watched him go, a knot of worry forming in my stomach.

*****

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