Mates (ON HOLD)

41. a wall so thick

A/N: Sorry I've been a bit absent, I kind of cut my finger (so typing is a bit of a challenge) and Ive had my hands full with school.

This doesn't even matter, I know. So, may I present Liv and his fine, fine commentary.

Enjoy ;)

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C H A P T E R F O R T Y-O N E:
a wall so thick

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L I V A T O R

Weird things have been happening lately.

Of course, if things weren't weird already, there had to be more. Much more.

It all started the morning of Parlia's big party. It was practically a going away event but it was mostly just a 'get drunk and go crazy' kind of party. Parlia treated it like it really was his last hoorah, though, making sure everything was perfect.

"You do realize we're all werewolves, right?! With this amount of booze, I could get barely buzzed." Some poor omega bowed, running out of the big kitchen, sliding past me.

My brother held his head, leaning heavily on the metal island. He looked even more tired than I felt, blond hair crazy, eye bags sliding across his cheek bones. If it wasn't me, I'd probably be terrified of him right now. My brother had a history of being scary when he's sleepy and many have contested to this, him loosing his temper being an easy thing, anyway.

"Hey, what's up?" I walked around the other side of the island, leaning on the metal, watching him glance up at me from his hands.

He wiped at his eyes again, standing against the metal, "Nothing, just..."

"...stressed?"

He nodded, chuckling bitterly as he yawned, "Had a rough night and a rougher morning."

I furrowed my brow mockingly, "Parlia Delimino is a normal, feeling person that's having a rough day? Impossible, that's crazy."

He hit my shoulder, cracking a smile, "Shut up!"

"There it is." I grinned, slapping him on the cheek, "That Delimino smile."

He shook his head, smile slowly fading as he stared at the mound of beer stacked in the kitchen, "Dad said beer was allowed, but no vandalization. He's also renting rooms out at that hotel on Main Street for people who don't want to party." He shrugged, wiping his eyes. They were slowly getting wetter and wetter, his hands trying to wipe away any evidence of feeling anything, "Its gonna be a rager, that's for sure. Mike is..." he turned away from me, "he's...uh-he's gonna DJ..."

Slowly, I walked around the table, slinking next to my brother. I leaned beside him, staring at the refrigerator in front of me. It was quiet, really quiet as Parlia kept rubbing away tears that kept coming. He cried and cried, letting me place a hand on his shoulder.

Why was this weird? Parlia never cries, ever. He cried once when he was stabbed by a branch on a hunt when he was ten. No other time had I seen his shoulders shake in sadness, face contorted with emotion. And it hurt to see my brother so upset, like his whole world was crumbling and no amount of shaking the head and ignoring emotion would stop this floodgate from opening.

After a couple minutes, he stopped trying to toss the tears away, letting them flow freely down his face. I ran my hand in circles on his back, "Wanna tell me whats really up?"