Carlisle

3

Just the beginning of many random stories explaining why Carlisle is a certain way or just for fun.

Also, trigger warning- abuse and violence
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"Mom." the boy with spiked black hair stomped into the house, slamming the door. Receiving no answer, he became more agitated. "MOM!"

There was a clatter and something fell somewhere in the house. Nervously, a woman with greying hair poked her head out of the kitchen doorway.

"Oh, you're home!" Poloma greeted, her voice and hands shaking. "I-I was just getting dinner started."

"Good, I'm starving." the boy grumbled, walking straight past the kitchen and to his room. He threw himself onto his bed and sighed, turning his radio on full blast. A quiet knock interrupted his music and he sat up, glaring at his doorway. There his mother stood timidly, wringing her hands and looking at the ground.

"D-dinner is ready." She explained, slipping back into the hallway. Growling, he followed his mother into the dining room to sit at the table with her and his brother. The table was silent, Poloma not daring to look up, the boy shoveling food into his mouth, and his brother was pushing his food around his plate idly. The boy stopped his eating and looked around the table. Clicking his tongue, he slapped his brother across the back of his head. Hard.

"Ow! What was that for?" He clutched the back of his head.

"For being a little shit, that's what," The boy stated, taking another bite of food.  His brother looked up at him in hurt confusion.
"What, do you have a problem with me?" He slammed his  fork down. His brother shook his head quickly. "Well how about we take this to the other room!" He gripped his brother's hair and pulled him out of the dining room and down the hall.

"WAIT! PLEASE, I DIDN'T MEAN TO! I'M SORR-" he slammed his fist into his brother's gut, cutting his screaming short. His brother slouched to the floor, gripping his stomach. Growling at the display of weakness, he drew his foot back and kicked the boy on the floor, throwing him against the wall like a weak puppy.

"God, you're disgustingly weak," He scoffed, looming over his runt of a brother who started sobbing grossly.

"W-what did I do wrong!? Please, tell me!" He sobbed from the ground.

"SHUT UP!" The boy yelled and slammed the back of his hand across his brother's face.
"You just have to learn that I'm higher on the food chain, Lisle." He grunted, clutching and releasing his fists several times. "And that means I can do whatever I want." He sneered.

"Roy please..." Carlisle whispered, tears streaming down his already bruised face. 

"I said shut up." Bardroy growled. God how he hated his brother.