No Pills

Like your honesty, but that hurts

*Charlie's P.O.V *

The world blurs. Something topples, its contents spilling on the floor, but Leo's eyes remain on me. He still presses my limbs to the bed, begging, "PLEASE, PLEASE, FUC-CALM DOWN CHARLIE!" Who even invented these words? I am not a machine with a "calm" button; machines don't understand this. Leo, get off me before I hurt you; machines, bodies, ribs - machines, books, have I read about machines - you're still yelling for me to relax - What?! I'm very relaxed; don't touch me. Are you trying to evaporate my wrists? I can't move- I can't move on- ARE YOU CRAZY?! MOVE ON WHERE -

A tear falls on my neck. No, two. By the next drop, I am numb.

Slowly, his grip loosens. I feel his knees knock mine as vague coolness hits my face.

"Oh God -" His warmth has travelled to the bed's edge. He turns his back to me.

Silence can be agonising.

"I-I'll le-lea-leave." I wipe his tears off me, sitting up abruptly. My feet fluster until they feel the stationery sprawled on his carpet.

"Dad -" Leo whispers. I tilt to him, look down and up again—his hand shivers on mine like he is touching fire.

"Dad... dad cut someone in front of you?"

"Mhm."

"You see things?"

"Mhm."

He stands. Trailing him, I see the first aid kit in his cupboard before he takes it.

He plops down so close I can hear his breathing. "Can I?" He motions to my hand. Nodding, I focus on his rings while they graze my bruised skin with every movement he makes: cleaning blood, dabbing ointment, and slowing down whenever I wince.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." I wince again.

"No, it's not. How do, like, you cope, besides -" Leo grimaces at the bandage he winds around my hand. I consider the question and what it may do to him.

I really don't want him to worry, but his eyes are boring into mine, and now my lips are moving. "Urm, study, sleep, bath, though that doesn't ... really distract me, umm -"

"You are not my distraction." He squeezes my hand.

I see a wet stain on my bandage and flinch. "Ok, but if you want me to go, it's fine. I ... I will."

"Don't."

*

So, I am still here. I look up at the ceiling; it doesn't fall. Beside me, Leo breathes in. He looks like a baby sleeping. Slowly, I wiggle out of the bed.

I have a bath and iron my uniform before climbing back into bed with my notes - his study desk is too busy. I'm taking a self-test when his arm flies over my chest. It takes everything in me, not to yelp.

"What are you doing?" he rasps. I freeze, and he opens one eye.

"Urr-"

"We wake up at 5:30 in this household. Close your books."

"But -"

"Shhhhhhhhh." He pulls the cover over our heads.

"Ok, what if I can't sleep?"

"Enjoy my snore." He starts making weird sounds. I smack his head with a pillow, but it barely moves him.

When the promised time arrives, I'm far gone. Leo has to shake me back to life.

"You like my snoring that much?"

"Don't flatter yourself." I rub slumber off my eyes.

His jaw drops. I ignore him, reaching for my uniform. Soon, he also gets dressed, combs his dark hair, sprays enough cologne to make me wonder what is air, and then fumbles with his door key.