Breathe

Chapter 18

Lucie

I'd fallen asleep by the time Cian came back in; the click of the door as he opened it woke me from my slumber—which hadn't been that deep in the first place. I hadn't even been aware I'd been asleep.

I glanced at my watch. It was one in the morning.

The gold light from the hallway vanished as Cian shut the door behind him; the room was shrouded in darkness yet again. He stepped forward, stopped at the foot of Vinny's bed to watch his sleeping brother for a moment, then looked to me again. "Oh, hey. Did I wake you up, muffin?"

I shrugged, trying to act like I didn't notice the odd dismay in his voice. "Yeah, but that's okay. How's your mom?"

"Uh," he murmured, then didn't say much else. His face was shadowed; I couldn't read his expression, but could tell by the slump to his shoulders that something was wrong. He glimpsed Vinny again, as if wary of him waking up, but after his nightmare, Vinny had been knocked out again by all the meds they had him on. He likely wouldn't blink his sleepy eyes open again until far into the morning.

Then, it hit me.

I asked it before I could give myself time to overthink it. "It's about your dad, isn't it?"

Cian stiffened. A car drove by, momentarily illuminating his face, the headlights catching the surprise in his stormy eyes. "Lucie, you didn't...know about this, did you?"

I just looked at him.

"You knew about this," he went on, "and you didn't tell me?"

He didn't sound as angry as I had expected him to, but nevertheless was bitter. I drew my knees up into my chair and rested my chin on them, letting my eyes flutter closed for a moment. "You were struggling with enough, and besides, I didn't have enough evidence. The last thing I was going to do was get you worried about something that may not have even been true."

He stared at me, as if contemplating what to say for a second. "Well," he responded finally, sinking down to the floor on the side of Vinny's hospital bed. "It's true. It's true, Lucie."

"Your mom must have found out too, then?"

He nodded, reaching a hand up to clear hair from off his forehead. Where he sat, the moonlight was just enough to see the sorrow in his countenance. Something in my chest pulsed uncomfortably; was it worse than I had thought?

I waited for him to say something, not sure it was my place to speak now when I hadn't before.

"He's gone," Cian said, his voice soft.

Everything inside of me went absolutely still. "Gone?"

Cian sighed, as if he hadn't wanted to say anything in the first place. His eyes lowered to the floor. "Mom told him to leave, and he barely hesitated. He just walked out, as if Vinny and I never meant anything to him. As if we were never his family in the first place."

"Cian," I said, his name like a plea on my tongue. I rose from my seat and came to sit beside him. He looked up at me as I approached, unable to hide the melancholy of his expression. Exhaling, he let me settle against him, my head atop his shoulder. I closed my eyes, tuned to the rhythm of his pulse and the outline of his bones underneath my cheek. "I'm so sorry. I should have told you. I didn't want to worry you."

He scoffed, something icy hidden in the tone of his voice, but not, thankfully, in regards to me. "Honestly? I would have been too stubborn to believe you. It's alright, Lucie. I would've found it hard to tell you if the sides were flipped."

"How are you going to tell Vinny?" I asked him.

He sighed heavily yet again, like he had to keep reminding himself to breathe. Turning his head, he pressed a tentative kiss to my temple, leaving a cold spot on my skin. "I don't know," he said. "He's going to have to find out somehow."

We both paused to glance back at the slumbering boy in the bed, and he was just that: slumbering. Both of us calmed ourselves at the idea that we had time to procrastinate dropping the news.

Cian rubbed his eyes with a small groan. "Lucie?" he said.

"Yeah?"

"I..." he trailed off, and I sat back, examining his face for a moment. His eyebrows were drawn in, a subtle frown playing at his lips, as if he was studying me. Then, the intensity in his eyes softened, and he shook his head. "Nevermind," he told me. "Sorry."

He started to turn away from me, but I reached out, tugging at his hand. Even in the dark, I could see the flush to his cheeks, the roundness of his eyes. For a moment we fell into a silence as sweet as syrup. I could have stayed there, watching him, his fingers twined in mine.

I moved forward; my nose brushed his, our lips hovering over each other's. Closing my eyes, I dropped my voice to a whisper. "I don't care how many people leave you," I told him. "I never will. I never will. And I don't know if that makes you feel better about your dad, but—"

"Let's not talk about my dad," he responded, and I tasted his breath on my tongue, endearing and familiar. His calloused hand brushed my chin, and he was so close to me that I could sense him. Even with my eyes closed, I felt his skin on mine, the cottony strands of his gold hair brushing my forehead. I could taste the love on his lips, even if he wasn't quite close enough. Cian added, "I don't...I don't want to even think about..."

He stopped, backed up, averted his gaze from me. I started to say his name, but after a moment's hesitation, he just yawned and got to his feet. I watched him with surprise, unsatisfied, but he was already too far away; I couldn't reach for him again.

"Do you want anything from the cafeteria?" he asked, as if nothing had happened at all. "I feel like I haven't eaten in days."

I paused. "I do like those apple fritter things they have."

Flipping his hood up, Cian winked at me. "Gotcha," he answered, and vanished beyond the door.