Evangeline (Unedited)

17

P A N I C
(Some of this writing might be a bit weird to some people—when I have panic attacks I need to feel as close to the ground as I physically can get, hence this. Also, I noticed that two of my FAV Wattpad authors followed me which is insane???? Some angst and... mystery??? Whattt?? Enjoy!)

"Evie?" Leo's voice calls out to me through the closed door. I stare at it, biting my lip as I clench my fingers.

"Yeah?" I splutter, hoping he doesn't hear the shake in my voice.

"I'm..." He trails off, and I hear his footsteps back away from the door. "Sandro wanted me to tell you there's cookies downstairs if you want any."

I mutter a thank you and listen as he walks away. Once the sounds fade out of my ears, I pace.

I stood at the side of the bed, staring down at the covers in confusion. I didn't mean to be so burdening for all of them, I felt selfish for not realizing how upset I was making Noah feel. My heart started to beat quickly, and I couldn't make it stop.

I sat down on the bed, hands clutching my forearms as I rubbed them desperately. I clench my eyes shut, trying to force the breaths out of my mouth. I felt like I was in a subway station with all of the loud noises that felt like they were whooshing past me. I couldn't make them stop. I pushed myself off of the bed and lowered myself to the ground, needing to feel closer to the ground. I was tempted to lie down, and lay my cheek on the floorboards.

I had this need to bury myself in the ground when I cried. Sink like an anchor in an open body of water. When I was little, Elio learned that the best way to calm me down, when I got to this point, was to bury me under blankets. Or, if that wasn't an option, lay on top of me.

A murmur echoed in my brain. I couldn't pick apart where it was coming from, or what it was saying. It sounded like Elio. It couldn't be.

"Evie?"

I tried to open my eyes—they were already open. I tried to stop seeing black, to see right in front of me. I felt like a cloud of smoke was obscuring my vision. I was trying to see through it. My squint wasn't strong enough.

"Evie, listen to me."

"El?"

"Wh—oh."

A snake wraps around my throat, squeezing as tight as it can. I attempt to claw it off, pulling and scratching. It won't budge. Something grabs hold of my hands and holds them away on a hard surface.

"Evie, listen to me," Elio tells me again. I shake my head. I can't. "You can. Come on, Evie."

Like a giant wave, I feel the panic flush out of my body slowly. The blue in my eyes dissipates and I'm able to make out Leo knelt in front of me. His eyes are deep and worried, and the shaky breaths leaving my mouth every couple of seconds have him unknowingly rubbing my arms. No matter who does, or how often, Elio always comes to mind. I find myself wondering how different it would be if it were Elio in my place.

I could picture it. He'd bond with the boys quicker than I ever would, ever will. He'd tell them all about his way more interesting hobbies than me; his coding and martial arts. How he wants to travel all around the world during his twenties. The boys would laugh and talk with him since he was always more sociable than me. He wouldn't have a panic attack on the floor of a beautiful rich bedroom, or burden the family with problems. He would fit right in.

I blink the tears away, rubbing my eyes like it will rid them. Leo moves to sit beside me, and he tests his arms on his knees. My chest rises and falls like my heartbeat every time I start to think again.

"Are you feeling better?" He asks once a comfortable silence falls over us. The only sounds were downstairs laughter and conversations.

"Yeah. Thanks." I sniffle, eyes drilling into the brown dresser drawers in front of me.

"No problem. I'm sorry I wasn't much of a help." I don't say anything, so he pauses but continues. "How much of that did you hear?"

I flit my eyes to his face, but when he turns to look at me, I look away. I didn't want to see the pity in his eyes. I didn't want him to see the truth in mine.

"Not much."

"Don't lie, Evie." He closes his eyes, sighing. "We don't—Noah doesn't hate you."

I continue staring in front of me, he does the same. It was weird—like neither of us could bear to look at each other. I knew what I would see if I looked at him, but it scared me that I had no clue what he'd see when he looked at me.

"It's okay."

"No, stop." He places his hands on the floor, fists clenched. "He doesn't hate you. Neither does anyone else here, he just..." He shakes his head, thinking. "He's troubled. It's just... our whole life Sandro has always cared more about the others. He didn't mean to, it's just... how it was. There was less to focus on with us.; we followed the rules and got good grades and... well, Lukas didn't. Neither did Will. Noah is just frustrated."

"You don't have to explain. I... shouldn't have been eavesdropping." I push myself off of the ground, dusting my clothes off with my hands.

"You're right. You shouldn't have. But you did, and that doesn't mean you deserved to hear that anyway." He jumps up quickly. "Look, we've been fighting for attention our entire lives. Noah more than me. He's always needed more. Thrives with it. I, um, have never cared much." He shrugs, looking at his feet. I stare at his face, frowning. "Well, I do--used to, but it didn't really matter, y'know? I was never going to get as much as the others and that's fine, I understood, but Noah didn't."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He shakes his head, eyes clenching shut. It was the kind of face you make when you're in pain, only his wasn't physical, rather it was a curse. One that flowed through his blood, his DNA. His older brothers, to theirs, to their father, to theirs, and through the rest of his family line; pain. I could feel it in the photographs, and when I looked at them. I guess I wasn't special; I found a characteristic I shared with them all." "Anyway, none of this is that important. I'm just--" He takes a deep breath, squeezing his arms across his torso like a hug. "I'm just telling you not to, um, feel like we don't want you here, I guess. To not feel like a burden. But especially to not feel like he dislikes you. He won't admit it to you, or anyone else, but I think he's excited to have a sister. Especially since he's wanted to meet you for so long. But-"

"Leo." Alessandro's voice cuts into Leo, leaving him looking at me wide-eyed.

He jumps and turns around to face the doorway, where Alessandro is watching us menacingly. I hadn't noticed him and had no idea how long he was there. Or why his eyes seemed so dark, why he seemed so angry, or why this, in turn, made Leo heel-and-toe walk over to him with his eyes glued to the floor like he'd be in trouble if he looked up. I narrowed my eyes, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Sandro."

"I'll deal with you later." His gruff voice whispers.

His scrutiny doesn't leave me, though. Leo shakes his head at me quickly, gesturing me not to question anything. Before his brother sees, and before I can even open my mouth, he walks down the hallway. Alessandro walks into the bedroom, examining my stuff, the bed, and me. I feel like he examines me for ages, though. My neck, and my eyes, and my clothes. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was looking for something.

It was eerie, and suddenly this family didn't feel so inviting. I didn't feel so loved, anymore.