our tattoos.

PART SIX. Elanoor Franklin And Christopher Hardy.

"Um, hello?" Elanoor asked, barely peeking out from behind her front door.

"Hi. This is Sandra, Christopher's brother. And I already know who you are - you broke my brother's heart. I just wanted to let you know that you are quite the-"

"I broke his heart?" Elanoor asked quietly, interrupting Sandra before any vile words escaped her chapped lips. 

"YES! YOU DID! And I believe you should pay for that. You are such a little-" Sandra was once again, cut off by Elanoor's small voice. 

"Is he okay?" Elanoor inquired worriedly. 

"Come see for yourself," Sandra spat with disgust. Elanoor rushed to her kitchen, and after giving Sherlock a peck on the cheek, she grabbed her purse and hustled out the door. Elanoor quickly followed Sandra down the crowded street, brushing past strangers under the gloomy clouds. 

He hates me. He hates me. He hates me, Elanoor chanted to herself. This is such great news. This is my fault. This is just.. great.

"CHRIS OPEN THE DOOR. I'M HERE. OPEN THE DAMN DOOR," Sandra yelled as she pounded on the filthy, white door, dead bugs clinging to it in some places. 

The grimy looking door creaked open just a fissure, and through the dimness you could just make out two beautifully bloodshot eyes, drooping just enough to hint that insomnia had built a home within his chest. As if Christopher needed help opening the door, Sandra shoved it open, revealing the stale smell of unwashed clothes, old liquor, and half-eaten take out food.  

"What the hell, Chris? Do I need to start babysitting you? Are you seriously living off of Chang's Chinese Take Out and expired rum? Is this how you want to spend the rest of your life?" Sandra demanded. 

"What do you want..." Christopher squinted into the light of the outside world; light he hasn't had contact with in a while. His uncombed hair stuck out in odd places, his grey, stained t-shirt wrinkled, and goosebumps were starting to form on his pale legs. 

"Well, hmm, let's see. FOR YOU TO START LIVING LIKE A NORMAL PERSON! JESUS CHRIST!"

That snapped him. "WHAT IS YOUR DEFINITION OF NORMAL, SANDRA? BECAUSE LAST TIME I CHECKED, FLYING DOWN TO SEE YOUR LITTLE BROTHER WITH NO INDICATION ISN'T QUITE NORMAL."

"NEITHER IS SKIPPING WORK BECAUSE OF SOME STUPID CHICK THAT HAPPENED TO SHOW UP AT SOME GROSS RESTAURANT YOU HAPPEN TO WORK AT. AND NEWS FLASH: IF YOU KEEP THIS UP, YOU WON'T BE WORKING FOR THEM FOR VERY LONG."

In the smallest voice you could expect, Christopher whispered hoarsely, "Go."

"What did you say to me?" Sandra gasped. 

"Go." 

"I'm not just going to leave you here like this, fueling yourself on brown rice and lost hope."

"Leave."

"What?" Sandra asked, still in disbelief. 

"I want you to leave."

"No, I am going to stay here. Let me inside." Sandra tried squeezing her way inside, but Christopher pushed her back forcefully. 

"Why? So you can stay here and, what, fix me? I don't think so," Christopher retorted. 

Sandra's brows drew together and her mouth fastened into a straight line. When she spoke, it was like sandpaper. "Fine. You know what, Chris? I use my money to fly down here to try and help you. But you push me away. I try calling you, you push me away. I try reasoning with you, you push me away. All you do is push me away. I'm done."

Christopher glanced at Elanoor, who has been silent the entire time, timidly glancing between Sandra and the drawn drapes behind him. "Yeah, well, I push everyone away, so don't take it personally."