Breathe

nineteen

KIRI'S POV

I was still in bed, the curtains were drawn shut, and music was blasting out of my speakers. I didn't care about the song that was playing, or that it was almost time for lunch. I wasn't hungry, anyways.

I didn't know what I was. Sad? Yeah, definitely. I was really fucking sad.

The door opened, and Michael entered the room. He grimaced at the music's volume, and I reached for my phone to turn it down a notch.

"Why are you still in bed?" Michael asked, leaning against the closet. "Lunch is ready soon."

"I'm sad," I stated, not caring about what I was saying. I didn't care much about anything, to be honest. There was just no point in caring right now.

Michael started fidgeting with his hands yet didn't leave the room. Wow, Anna had started to build up his confidence and now he was planning on having conversations about boys with me. What a fun way to pass the time with my dad.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, slightly hesitating. I sighed.

"Nah."

Michael tilted his head. "But I found that talking often helps."

"What do I have to do so you'll leave the room and let me die alone in here?" I asked, turning on my back. "I tried talking, and it didn't do shit, so now I'll try dying. See how that works out."

"Kiri, nothing is bad enough to justify death."

I narrowed my eyes as I looked at Michael. To imagine that he had felt similar for far longer than me, and that he had been completely on his own during that time-

"Tell me what to do then," I replied, sitting up. "Come on. Enlighten me."

Michael raised a brow, straightening his back. "Turn off this thing you call music, and join me for lunch."

I rolled my eyes. "Great life advice. Dad of the year."

He just smiled at me, and even though it was small and faint it seemed true, before he left the room. Just as I crawled out of bed my phone buzzed. A text from Gill, asking me if I wanted to come to a party with them tonight.

I hesitated, not sure if I could deal with Asher if he was there as well. Then again, he wasn't that much into parties, so the chances that he wouldn't show up weren't exactly slim. On the other hand, if he did, there was plenty of alcohol to make me forget my poor life decisions.

Replying with an extravagant 'hell yeah' I tossed the phone away to join Michael in the kitchen.

Anna wasn't here today, so it was just the two of us. I turned on the radio before turning to the stove and giving the pots on it a closer look.

"Is this supposed to smell like this?"

"Hey, don't insult my cooking," Michael mumbled, hurrying to one of the pots and opening the lid. Steam filled the kitchen, and I opened the window next to me with a sigh.

"I would never. So, is it supposed to smell like this?"

Michael nodded as he turned off the oven. "It's some new recipe I saw on that Korean guy's show."

"I really don't get how you can voluntarily watch that," I said, sitting down at the table. "He has a voice like a canary. Like, so chirpy and weird."

"He didn't pick his voice," Michael replied with a shrug. "Also, thanks to him, I know a few words in Korean. What's wrong with that."

I sighed, crossing my arms on the table and resting my chin on them. "Nothing. Let me complain in peace."