Him & I

- CHAPTER 8 -

- B R O K E N T R U S T -
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Olivia
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I gave a weak smile back and turned to the path, hearing the door shut firmly behind me.

Taking a deep breath I tried looking up at the hills behind the town to calm myself down. I saw a small group of people heading up the side of the hill and disappearing into the forest as they continued on their upwards push. Hamish always used to take me up there on his back for fun.

As I reached the pavement to head back home, the tears started to roll down my cheeks.

I trusted him.

Why did he lie to me?

I trudged all the way home, the tears becoming more frequent. I passed by all the beautiful houses lining Island Street as I made my way to the end. Most people think that all the houses on Island Street are only for people who can afford that luxurious lifestyle, but then again, they probably don't know about the little house at the end.

Don't get me wrong, the home Hamish bought for us is such a lovely place, however, unlike the other houses on Island Street, it's very small. Small yet pretty. We have a sage-green, solid oak door that leads into the hall. Straight ahead is a fairly large open-plan kitchen with a little sitting area that leads onto our garden via French doors. From the hall there are also doors leading to: a downstairs loo; the snug with a really squishy sofa and the television; and a very small room which we use for shoes and coats.

Before the kitchen, there's a really nice wooden staircase which makes echo-y noises when you go up and down them. On the landing, Hamish's room is directly opposite the stairs and next to him is his study. On the other side of his room there is a bathroom which we share; my room is two doors down from Hamish's, on the other side or the bathroom; it's on a corner and there is a nice guest bedroom just down the corridor from it. In the guest room there's a hole in the ceiling and a folding staircase can be pulled down from it; a few years ago, Hamish and I built a little playroom up there with lots of pillows, beanbags and a teepee with fairy-lights strung up around the room. It was a magical place but we don't tend to go up there a lot anymore.

Hamish hadn't given me a key, so I knocked on the door while I eyed the pale pink Fiat500 in our dive way.

Whom does that belong to?

By now I could feel the tears slowly begin to drip off my chin uncontrollably and I just wanted Hamish to open the door open and bring me into a bone-crushing hug.

I knocked again, growing impatient.

"I'm just coming" Hamish giggled.

Giggled?!

Since when does Hamish giggle?!

He swung the door open, a smile plastered onto his face and I didn't miss him pulling his shirt down. He immediately sobered up as soon as he saw my face and he dropped to his knees, pulling me into a bear hug: the hug that I really needed. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and let out the sobs I had been holding. Hamish had one arm around my waist and the other was on the back of my head, pressing me into his comforting embrace.

"Babe, who is it?" I heard a shrill voice call from the kitchen

I tensed up and tried to pull away from Hamish but he just held me tighter and stood up instead, turning to face the owner of the voice. My head was still buried in my brother's protective neck as I listened to their conversation.

"I'm really sorry Lulah, could you take a rain check?" Hamish calmly said, not letting his grip on me loosen as I wept onto his shoulder.

"Who the f*** is this Hamish?" She screeched, making both of us cringe.