Home Again

Sanity

*my mind- yebba smith

only because I feel like I'm losing my mind

~

Clover stood over the stove, boiling water.

Junior sat at the table, watching her. The lines and curves of her body, the same ones that had pressed against him the night before, seemed to call to him. Holding her was becoming his favorite hobby.

"You making tea?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered without turning to him.

He ran his fingers along his lips, thankful for her presence. He dropped his head in thought. Clover turned and noticed his downcast expression. She came to him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. Her hands moved down his chest and he held onto one of her arms, resting his head onto it. Her chin rested on his crown.

"It's okay," she said. "I'm here."

She gently pressed her face into his neck, kissing him there. He had just shared with her a highly traumatic experience the night before. He had trusted her with something this heavy and she wanted to support him through it. He made her feel a way she hadn't felt before and she knew she did the same for him. So, at this point, they both were just...going with it.

The kettle screamed and Clover went for it.

"I'm going for a walk," he said as she poured the hot liquid into the second ceramic cup.

"Want me to come?" She turned to him.

He shook his head, "No," he gave a weak smile. "I think I should be alone."

He stood and left.

Junior tucked in his dress shirt. He fastened all of its buttons, even the top ones. He set out in no particular direction and did his best to breath evenly. After a few paces, Junior felt as if he couldn't breath. He ripped the top three buttons open and kept going.

He felt as if he was losing his sanity. There was a girl who, it seemed, he loved. There was his family, whom he couldn't find the strength to go back to. There was his sister, who he couldn't seem to get over losing. There was his life, which seemed to be going nowhere. He wasn't a genius. He wasn't a gentleman. He wasn't a murderer either. There was no place in the world that he seemed to fit into.

It was like there was a chain binding him. And he had run and run but finally, the chain was all used up and he was yanked back to reality and to his past. Clover gave him comfort and courage but his familial situation scared the hell out of him. He didn't want to go back to the estate, the place that reminded him of death. But where could he go? How could he run away when what he avoided continued to find him?

Junior stopped. He had made his way back to Clover's place. Someone was outside waiting for him. The man was facing the door but, sensing Junior's presence, turned to face the young man. Junior gasped.

"Hello, son," said Junior's father.

Junior took a step back, looking for escape routes.

"Now's as good a time as ever to have a talk," Tommy continued.

Junior had his eyes set on a path of escape but before he could take a step toward it, Thomas Shelby spoke up,

"I have a gun, son. Don't make me use it."

There was eye contact again.

"Let's talk," Tommy said.

"I don't want to talk to you," Junior said a little too loudly, his sanity slipping. He looked frantically around, searching for something. "Why can't you leave me the fuck alone. You didn't seem this concerned about me when I was home."

"I know and I'm sorry-"

"Oh, that's one for the books," Junior said, his sarcasm returning to him, "Thomas Shelby senior is apologizing to me."

"Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Junior blinked, thinking. "Get away from me," he said finally.

"No. Never. Come home," said his father.

"I'm home when I'm with her," Junior motioned to the house.

Tommy looked to the ground, raising his eyebrows in incredulity. "Yes," he said, "they told me."

"Good."

Eye contact again.

"Goodbye," Junior said.

Tommy called after his son but was ignored as the door was slammed in his face. Despite his rising irritation, Thomas kept his temper in check. It was so difficult being a dad.

Junior stormed through the house, still steaming.

"What was that?" Clover asked. "Who was that?" She asked again.

"No one, no one," Junior said unconvincingly.

"All right," she said carefully. "How about you sit, then?" She asked, calming him.

Junior did sit. He sighed, relaxing slightly. He ran a hand along his face, "Sorry about that, love. Did I miss anything?" He asked, attempting to restore humor to the house.

She stayed quiet so he looked up at her; there were tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asked, leaping up to embrace her.

"It's my father," she said. "I have to go see him."

"What's going on?" Junior asked. Her words landing like blows on his heart.

"He's sick," she continued. "So I need to go take care of him. My uncle just called and told me."

Junior pulled back and looked at her. "So...you're leaving...me?"

She nodded, her eyes closed. "Yes."

~~

Slowly, but surely we're getting there. Thanks for your patience and thanks for the read. Have a good night! [Vote and comment]