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Description
"Something's wrong."
"What?"
"Something's wrong. With you. You know, more than the crippling mental issues and Frankenstein's Monster Complex."
"Very fuckin' funny."
"No, seriously." Kieran punches my arm, and I punch his chest so hard he almost loses his balance - he sways back on the wall, then swings his legs up to catch himself, settling back cross-legged next to me. "Stop being a tosser. That's not how we work."
"You're being a tosser," I retort and I know that it's too sharp and too quick but I can't take it back now so I just make a noise in my throat and jump down.
"You may be an agender being of concentrated rage and sassy retorts," Kieran sighs, hopping down after me and catching up easily, "but I am still your older brother. Which means you gotta' tell me everything."
"I do," I say casually - not falling for that one. "There's nothing new."
"Wow," he rolls his eyes. "So convincing."
I don't say anything, just carry on walking. I don't feel like going anywhere, and jumping off a fricking wall wasn't exactly going to get K off my back, but it's not like there's any more point in stopping and sitting down than there is in just carrying on - and I feel better moving. If I sat down, I'd just want to stand up again. And although Kieran walks with me, easily strolling with his long legs to keep up with my little desperate stride, he doesn't leave it long before he keeps on.
"Is it Olly?"
"Is what Olly?"
"The thing that's wrong."
"I don't care about Olly."
"But does he care about you?"
"Irrelevant."
"Obviously not."
"Can you not?" I roll my eyes.
"I could, most definitely. As soon as you tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong, dickhead. There's you and me, we're both alive and in relative health, and we're both here to look after each other. What else could there be? Nothing else matters."
"So you keep telling me - and yet here you are, and you haven't been to see Olly in two days."
I stop walking, staring at him hard. "So?"
He stops as well, but stands in front of me now. "So, you tell me. Why?"
"He was getting too clingy. It was weird."
"Right... Really sounds like Olly, that."
I roll my eyes, and Kieran laughs, batting me over the head and then crushing my face against his chest. He smells like K. I hope I never have to miss the smell of him.
"No chance," he grins, knowing what I'm thinking, and I snort and jab my elbow into his side - he doesn't let go, just grips my head harder, turning us around and almost lifting me off my feet like I'm six years old.
"Oh fuck off!" I laugh.
And that's that. We've both stopped caring again.
The truth was, one day Olly didn't text me and there was a sudden pit of dread in my stomach. Then Harry sent me a picture of him touching up some tart in a bar. I didn't end it because of that - we wouldn't have lasted so long if one of us got pissed off every time the other one messed around - but because of the caring it made in my stomach.
I love K. I know that. He's my brother. But anyone else can go fuck themselves: only I can play with my heart.

Description
"Something's wrong."
"What?"
"Something's wrong. With you. You know, more than the crippling mental issues and Frankenstein's Monster Complex."
"Very fuckin' funny."
"No, seriously." Kieran punches my arm, and I punch his chest so hard he almost loses his balance - he sways back on the wall, then swings his legs up to catch himself, settling back cross-legged next to me. "Stop being a tosser. That's not how we work."
"You're being a tosser," I retort and I know that it's too sharp and too quick but I can't take it back now so I just make a noise in my throat and jump down.
"You may be an agender being of concentrated rage and sassy retorts," Kieran sighs, hopping down after me and catching up easily, "but I am still your older brother. Which means you gotta' tell me everything."
"I do," I say casually - not falling for that one. "There's nothing new."
"Wow," he rolls his eyes. "So convincing."
I don't say anything, just carry on walking. I don't feel like going anywhere, and jumping off a fricking wall wasn't exactly going to get K off my back, but it's not like there's any more point in stopping and sitting down than there is in just carrying on - and I feel better moving. If I sat down, I'd just want to stand up again. And although Kieran walks with me, easily strolling with his long legs to keep up with my little desperate stride, he doesn't leave it long before he keeps on.
"Is it Olly?"
"Is what Olly?"
"The thing that's wrong."
"I don't care about Olly."
"But does he care about you?"
"Irrelevant."
"Obviously not."
"Can you not?" I roll my eyes.
"I could, most definitely. As soon as you tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong, dickhead. There's you and me, we're both alive and in relative health, and we're both here to look after each other. What else could there be? Nothing else matters."
"So you keep telling me - and yet here you are, and you haven't been to see Olly in two days."
I stop walking, staring at him hard. "So?"
He stops as well, but stands in front of me now. "So, you tell me. Why?"
"He was getting too clingy. It was weird."
"Right... Really sounds like Olly, that."
I roll my eyes, and Kieran laughs, batting me over the head and then crushing my face against his chest. He smells like K. I hope I never have to miss the smell of him.
"No chance," he grins, knowing what I'm thinking, and I snort and jab my elbow into his side - he doesn't let go, just grips my head harder, turning us around and almost lifting me off my feet like I'm six years old.
"Oh fuck off!" I laugh.
And that's that. We've both stopped caring again.
The truth was, one day Olly didn't text me and there was a sudden pit of dread in my stomach. Then Harry sent me a picture of him touching up some tart in a bar. I didn't end it because of that - we wouldn't have lasted so long if one of us got pissed off every time the other one messed around - but because of the caring it made in my stomach.
I love K. I know that. He's my brother. But anyone else can go fuck themselves: only I can play with my heart.