A Deathly Cry for Help

Chapter 6: You

Friendly reminder that Lorenzo maybe 28 but still is hot AF and sarcastic

ALEX POV

You know that moment when you look back on a memory and then you're like 'Fuck!! I overshared' That's how I felt about meeting Lorenzo... Why??? Who the fuck talks about poison and therapy for the first time with their fa-uncle's brother? Why did I have to speak to him?

 Fuck I have to go down for breakfast. Not like I need breakfast Emily (bitch of a mother) here starved me. My ribs are on fire. The cuts that I made are bleeding. My head is spinning even with the meds. I need to get out of here. I need to end it all. He's not here to stop me so then what's stopping me?

"Al?" Wtf? Al? Al? Why do they call me Al? Oh! It's short for Alex. Earlier me would have loved the nickname Al. Now it only makes me think of him. Jack used to call me sunshine and earlier me loved it now I'm wondering how stupid and naive I was. I still am...

"Al? Al? You okay?" Ez was looking at me concerned maybe he actually is concerned maybe I'm just overthinking it No that's what I thought last time and look what happened

"It's Alex," I said flatly. Ez sighed. 

"Alright, Alex. Are you okay? You look a bit pale." He said the word Alex like it was physically hurting him.

No, I'm not okay

I nodded

"Bullshit" Ez deadpanned. I was going to retort with a classic fuck you when guess who walked in? Mr. Perfect (Uncle's Brother) Oh! Great

 "Um, everything okay here?" he asked awkwardly. How is he so awkward? I rolled my eyes. I didn't even bother to answer him if he wanted an answer he could just ask his brother not some random teen who has his DNA

"I'll tell you later," Ezra said. Glad to know that I'm what they talk about in their free time over tea.

"Hmm So...Do you want to come for breakfast don't worry I haven't poisoned the food—" Mr Perfect said with a perfect smile  and then he grinned "—yet" 

I rolled my eyes.

"Is rolling your eyes your form of saying yes?" Mr. Perfect asked sarcastically leaning on the door. Mr Boring kinda just teleported away so it was only us. Ugh. I rolled my eyes

"Wow! Another yes" You know I'm starting to get why people find sarcasm annoying.

 Lorenzo—I mean Mr Perfect—was wearing a classic plain (like his heart) white, formal, shirt. I couldn't help but notice that this guy looked like he just turned twenty. He had no wrinkles and was very jacked It looked like one punch from him would send you flying and he has a biological fourteen-year-old kid. Wait I made him a father when he was seven!! Actually, it's his fault for having...

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-nine" Lorenzo replied shocked that I asked him that

"What?" I blurted out. "You look like you're twenty!"

He sat down on the bed, laughing. "Thanks! Genetics, I guess," he said, shrugging. I wanted to point out the obvious: that Ezra looked his age, but I didn't want to increase his ego.

"Seriously, are you hungry, though?"

 No, I have been starved for days. I can survive without three meals a day. Duh.

 I shook my head.

"Okay," I expected him to shoo away like a little fly, but he didn't. He stayed. I rolled my eyes. I just wanted to sleep. Sleeping is like being dead without the commitment. Instead, he got up and sat at his desk, sketching. 

Apart from looking like a carbon copy of Mr. Perfect, except without the posh clothes and all, I liked the same shit as him: art, and it fucking pissed me off. I wanted to sketch so badly. Emily (Bitch of a mother) would never allow me to have hobbies, so instead of going to school, I used to go to the library and read books on how to sketch, and this old man, who was really kind when I was a jerk, gave me his sketchbook along with some pencils, and I fell in love with art. I tried to sleep, but I really wanted to draw, and instead, I ended up gushing over Lorenzo's paintings. His paintings weren't even perfect; some were, some weren't. Ugh, stop it.

I think Lorenzo saw me eyeing his paintings. Well, shit! Fuck me, I really want to know. I'm fucking curious, and I hope curiosity kills me because I don't wanna live anyway.

"Did you paint those?" Lorenzo turned his rotating chair thingy around.

"You like paintings?" he said in disbelief, and I'm incredibly offended. Of course, I like art, you idiot

"Duh," I said, rolling my eyes.

"You paint?" he asked. Nah, I fly.

"No." I answer blankly.

"Now stop avoiding the question."

"Yeah, I painted them," he said with a sad smile. Wtf was he sad about? The paintings are beautiful. If I painted those... I wonder what's under the painting covered with a black cloth.

"All?" I asked, looking at him like he had three heads.

"Yeah," he gulped. Why the hell is he so sad about it?

"Do you not like them?"I asked wondering what the fuck is wrong with him. Lorenzo looked at me like I had three heads this time.

"No, I love them, it's just..." Ugh, I hate cryptic people.

"I'm not a mind reader," I heard Lorenzo mutter something that sounded suspiciously like "I sure hope not." He then sighed.

"It makes me remember someone." Oh, probably someone dead.

"Who?"

He laughed... Sadly? Idk. And before I had time to even process anything, guess what he said?

"You."

Okay, Thoughts? Also Alex's POV or third person