85 | He Loves Me

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He wouldn't.

He couldn't.

I drove home in illegal speed; driving pass cars as I dodged them fluently; the turns and twists with my steering wheel burning into the palms. But I didn't care; I had one thing settled in my mind only and that one thing was my brother.

Kenji.

When my father told me that Kenji was taken from my mother, I almost thought it was a prank. A practically joke played on me on my graduation before having a small surprise. When his expression didn't change within seconds, I knew it was real. Despite how much I hate hearing it.

Kenji.

Kenji.

Kenji.

I pulled into the driveway, finding it empty. She couldn't have came that fast, right? He didn't agree to it that easily did he?

I hopped out of my car in heels, the royal blue gown still secured on my body. I ran to the house, not caring I could trip and skim my knee against the concrete. I didn't care, I had too much to think about, too much focused on.

Kenji.

I juggled the keys in my hands, shakily as I hurried up and opened up the lock. My heart pumping, beating harshly against my ribcage at the moment's reveal. Please tell me he was joking.

I ran into the house, "Kenji!" I practically screamed into the empty house; and no replied come back. My heart aches. I look up to the staircase, and finding myself running up the slippy stairs in a heartbeat.

I kicked open the door, "Kenji!" I screamed, finding his room... nearly empty. His computers and gadgets still stand, but a lot of majorities in his room disappeared. His photos, his books, and a good chunk of his clothes ran from his closet.

"No," my hands found my lips as I covered my mouth, stopping myself from screaming. Footsteps appeared from downstairs, and at this moment, I didn't care if it was a home intruder or a stranger here to kill me—I didn't care.

"Francena!" Julian's panicked voice expressed through the echoes of the emptied house and I made no urges to reply. I begin to fall down to my knees, staring out at my brother's room. My brother.

"Francena!" Footsteps ran upstairs, and I felt his presence behind me. "Francena..." his voice softened, but I had no urges to turn around. I didn't want to turn around; I felt myself cracking, tearing.

Julian falls down to his knees, coming close to comfort me. His arms wrapped around mine and I begin to find myself fighting back.

"Stop, stop!" I screamed, struggling to escape from my boyfriend's grip. "Let me go! Let me go!" Tears pricked my eyes and I wanted to scream, yell, anything to drop myself out of this misery.

Julian didn't release. In fact, he held on tighter. His grip iron, as he holds on strong. "Let me go, let me go!" I screamed again, finding my voice weaker than the last. He didn't listen, making me agitated at his stubbornness but at the same time, finding comfort in his arms.

I didn't want comfort.

I want my brother.

I stopped struggling. Falling limp in his arms as I let out hard tears, my skin burning and my heart had basically collapsed. Julian didn't let go, he pulls me closer to him, bringing me into his lap as he strokes back my baby hair.

My chest rising up and down, hiccups complimenting my voice as I cried. Julian pull me into his chest, wrapping the familiar protective arm around my body as the other carried in strokes. I knew he knew it worked, but I didn't want it to work—I didn't want to be comfort.

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