Unless (LGBTQ+ BxB Completed Novel)

2: Where did you sleep last night?

"What the hell were you thinking, Noah?" 

The strain in her voice shatters the hope I built on the ride back home. She is pissed, and I can't blame her. I wish I could take it back, spare her the burden that being my sister entails. Savannah is the one person who gets me, and now, she is not only mad at me but also hurt. I can see it in her eyes; it breaks me.

"That's the thing, Savvy—I wasn't." I dip my head in defeat, the weight of my mistake slumping my shoulders. I carry a ton of baggage into her life, and now this. What kind of person would do this to someone who has been nothing but a constant blessing? Silence descends like the wet towel she brought me cascading to the wooden panels beneath my soaked converse shoes.

With a head tilt and clenched jaw, I try one more time, "Savvy, please forgive me. I meant to ca—" She calls my bluff, which infuriates her even more.

"Don't bullshit me. You disappeared and didn't answer my texts. We were  having dinner together, you never showed." She's frantic. I stare in agony at how she paces back and forth, her nails dug deep into her palms.

Fuck up number 1000: dinner with my sister and her future husband—who is kind to me, as well—and I blew that one too.

I don't know what to do with my hands or my shivers, so I cross my arms tight around my chest. My gaze meets hers, pain laced across her face. My voice grabs at my throat and refuses to surface. Yet, after a few seconds, I pull through. "I am sorry. I feel like a total jerk here; please, cut me some slack. Say you will," I beg, my words barely above a whisper.

She has her eyes glued to the window that overlooks an empty New York road wallpapered with swaying oak trees. We're standing still, neither of us knowing what to do next. I always loved the view from that window as well. When the world seemed forlorn, I'd stare at it unfolding from the inside of my shell.

My studio apartment, near Pratt Institute, is the one place I can call home. It's where I crawl to after class. I'm earning my Master of Fine Arts—or at least I was getting my MFA until my big fight with my old man.

"What happened last night, Noah?" Her voice snaps me back to reality. For half a heartbeat, I want to tell her everything. Open my mouth and downpour all the remaining water from the ocean alongside my unpredictable thoughts. Then again, how can I put them down into words if I'm not sure what they are or where they come from?

"I told you, Sav—I don't quite know, don't remember," I lie. "I honestly don't." Except I do. Small flashes invade my thoughts, taking no prisoners.

"Don't lie to me," she deadpans. "I know about the fight you had with Dad. Why? Why are you acting like this, Nono? We used to be close... I mean, why won't you trust me?" She is using my childhood nickname, the one I adore, to be honest. It brings back many memories—from places we explored together, to games we shared, to the smell of those thin and crispy chocolate chip cookies she used to bake for me.

She is my safe harbor, the one person I feel like showing my true self to, and this stupid void inside of me is feeding on her too. It's a fucking ravenous beast. It hunts and feeds on any positive aspect of my life. Now, it seems to have taken an interest in my sister, depriving me of my only hope of staying in one piece.

"Nono, please. Do you think I haven't noticed how much weight you've lost? How many cigarettes you smoke a day. How—" she ponders whether to carry on and say what comes next. With a choked up sigh, she lets the words flow, "dark your art has become?" Tears well up in her eyes. They roll down her cheeks and land helplessly on my living-room floor. I watch them dissolve in the checked fur carpet she gifted me, and for the first time since yesterday, I wish the current had taken me under.