Too Complicated

Chapter 81.

I helped my brother to bed that night, hoping to god he remembered everything that was said. He was drunk, but even then I prayed that no matter how much alcohol flowed through his blood stream, he'd still be aware of what we shared with each other last night.

It's morning now, ten thirty to be exact, and out of a strange genuine helpfulness, I decided to make waffles for Devon and I. He had a rough night last night between finding out that I was back with Gavin and spilling the feelings I didn't know he had anymore.

I love my brother, and even if this breakfast gesture doesn't help him feel better, at least I'll be able to say I tried. That's really all that matters at this point.

I have my earbuds in, jamming to The Weeknd's new album, swaying my hips to the beat as I cook. If it weren't for the invention of music, cooking wouldn't be nearly as much fun. It's a very tedious process so I usually get bored easily without some alternative activity.

"Ask around about her
She don't get emotional
Kill off all her feelings
That's why she ain't approachable
She know her pussy got a fanbase
A couple niggas with a suitcase
Suit and tie niggas who play roleplay
When it comes to money she play no games

She lick it up just like a candy
She wanna make them leave their family
She trying to live a life so fancy
She wanna pull up in a Bentley
She ain't got time for lovin'
Louis Vuitton her husband She rather die in lusting
She rather die in the club, 'til she

Six feet under she gon' get that fucking paper
Six feet under she gon' get that fucking paper
Six feet under she gon' get that fucking paper
You know how she get down, pop it for a check now
Six feet under, six, six feet under
Six feet under, six, six feet under
Six feet under she gon' kill me for that paper
Not the type to fuck around, gonna turn that ass around-"

The music is cut off with a yank of my ear bud before I can continue my solo, and I turn to the culprit with a pissed off attitude. Nobody cuts off my Abel and gets away with it.

"Care to explain?" I ask my older brother, crossing my arms over my chest. Despite the dark bags under his eyes and the lazy look he holds, he smiles as if he's the happiest he's ever been.

"Trust me, sister," he chuckles. "You'll thank me later."

I roll my eyes and snatch my ear bud back. "Whatever."

He shrugs and takes a seat at the chair that seats perfectly in front of the stove I work at. "What are you making? I don't think I've seen you cook since you burnt the Christmas cookies last year."

I grimace and try desperately to erase that image. "Mom didn't give me clear instructions, first of all. But I'm making waffles."

"Can I ask why?" He looks up at me from the waffles.

"I don't know," I look at him with a smug smile. "Can you?"

He rolls his eyes. "Are you seriously trying to be my teacher right now?"

I laugh. "I'm kidding. I thought you would like breakfast being made for you is all."

He nods skeptically. "It doesn't have to do with the fact that I poured my heart out to you last night?"

"Not at all." I don't look at him. "Just a sister trying to be good to her brother."