Bound to Earth

11: Only First Place Matters

I wasn't prepared to face what lay behind that door, I would never be prepared. It was Brynjar unexpectedly pushing my ass through the door that kept me from flinching, screaming, throwing myself into a panic attack. I didn't have time to dwell on opening the door, Brynjar did that for me.

"Mother fucker." Alistar had Brynjar pinned to the wall before I could react, blade pressed to Brynjar's jugular. I was too taken aback by surprise to do anything other than stare in the door. "Were you not listening?"

The deep breath I took was as rugged as my voice. "It's fine, Alistar." I wouldn't be afraid, not of the past. It was harder, to not feel afraid than I thought. Especially when I wasn't numb, when the world was clear around me, along with my thoughts.

Alistar sheathed the blade but kept Brynjar in place, glaring. Brynjar barely batted an eye at Alistar, his tranquility never faltering, even when Alistar pinned him. Neither of them moved, yet the intensity in their eyes proved neither of them yielded. If they ever were to fight, I wasn't sure who'd win, only the amount of damage done around them would be catastrophic. 

Next time I had the chance, I'd try irking them both into a fight. Maybe Alistar would fight him if I asked.

A tug on my hand pulled me out of my thoughts and stopped me from taking a step froward. Valentino's face melted with concern. "You don't have to."

But I did. It was time I finally faced a part of my past before it piled up any further, before I imploded. Only, I was no longer alone. I didn't have to face this alone. And it was so much better, having someone next to me, supporting me. 

My hand shook to the beat of my heart as I clasped his hand in mine. His presence was I needed to find the strength to take the next step forward. He didn't hesitate, falling by my side despite the unbearable conditions the room was in. The room itself wasn't large, but a thick layer of dust coated every surface. Dust even lingered heavily in the air, visibly shifting with every breath I took.

My chest tightened, breathing became difficult. The dust had nothing to do with it. Every step was more difficult than the last, even with Valentino by my side.

I didn't know what to do or where to start now that I was in here. Everything was either tucked into boxes or covered in too much dust, matting the whatever lay beneath. I could no longer see what picture each frame held from how dirty the room was. 

I let go of Valentino's hand, lifting the frame that'd fallen face down. The frame shook in my hand so hard I thought I'd drop it. I took the cloth from my shirt and wiped off the glass, not caring if I sullied my shirt.

My breath hitched.

There was shifting behind me before Alistar peaked his head over my shoulder. "Is that from the 1930's?" His breath skimmed the top of my hair.

I nodded.

I would never forget the day we took the photo, despite my young age. It took my brother hours to try and style my hair. The yanking and screaming as he removed the curling pins that morning explained my scowling. But he was so proud, then pissed when I threw myself into the nearest muddy puddle as soon as the photo was taken.

"Who are they?" Valentino pointed to the glaring girl. "She reminds me of you."

"It is me." I ignored their lingering stares, letting them figure out the math. "And my brother."

Alistar grinned, unconcerned with the unpleasant photo. "Adorable."

Scoffing, my hands stopped inched above the desk. It felt wrong to place something so cherished on the plethora of dust. I reached out, ready to whip the  desk off with my hands when Brynjar nudged Valentino aside. With a damp cloth in hand, he wiped the table down for me.