For No One || A Beatles Fanfiction

S i x t e e n

I ran out the door, leaping into my brother's arms that I haven't felt around me for months now. He felt much thinner than he had been last time I saw him but, nonetheless, he still smelled like home.

Thinking about the last time I saw Anthony lead me to remember why he hasn't been here.

Feeling a bit awkward since I spent the last few months despising him, I let go.

"So uh," I rubbed the back of my neck, picturing my mother's face when I told her he had left a week after the diagnosis, "how have you been?"

"Okay," he shrugs nonchalantly, as if everything in life is wonderful. I feel my hand clench involuntarily as he continued. "But right now I'm freezing my bloody arse off."

Paul cleared his throat, reminding us that he was still standing there with the door open. "Would you like to come inside, Anthony, was it?"

My brother gave him a suspicious glance before looking back down at me. "Sure. Thanks, mate."

Anthony walked into the flat without a seconds hesitation, striding right past me and Paul.

I disregarded Paul's befuddled expression and went to catch up with my brother who was now helping himself look around the kitchen.

"Got any beer?"

I narrowed my eyes at the back of Anthony's head, wishing I could place just a hint of consideration into it.

"Yeah, it's in-"

I cut Paul off, not being able to stand holding my tongue any longer. "What the hell are you doing here, Anthony?"

Even though he has his back to me, crouched as he looked in the fridge, I could see his shoulders sag and his head drop. He stood up slowly, avoiding eye contact by looking at the floor.

When he finally glanced up at me, his eyes had gone from bright and cheery to blanketed in gloom. "How's mum?"

I felt my stomach writhe in anger. "You don't get to know," I spat, feeling any ounce of happiness that he was here flood from my body.

"Oh come off it, Blair. I have every right to know how my own mum is doing." His voice grated every nerve within me.

He acted so deserving of something he abandoned months ago.

"You're the one that left, remember? You're the one that didn't want to see her. You're the one who left me all alone to watch as she forgot who I was!" I started yelling, feeling every word pour from my mouth before I could stop them.

Paul grabbed my arm, steadying me before I flung myself at the stranger I thought I knew.

Anthony stood there, acting as if this was just a nice family visit. He even looked a bit bored.

"Look, if you don't tell me how she is, I can just go and see her without you." My brother's brown eyes, that looked so much like our father's had, seemed to taunt me.

My brother and I had always gotten along as children. Blimey, I even considered him more of a best friend than a sibling. But after dad's death, he became less compassionate; always saying hurtful things without even acting as though he cared.

Despite his behavior, my mum started to favor Anthony. I couldn't understand why; she had never played favorites when we were younger. It wasn't until she accidentally called him Thomas one day that I began to understand.

I have always closely resembled my mother; green eyes, chocolate-brunette hair, thin frame, high cheek bones, fair skin. My brother, on the other hand, was a carbon copy of our father; brown eyes, blonde locks, muscular build, olive skin.