𝓣𝓻𝓾𝓵𝔂 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼

❁ Chapter Thirty Six - Barbeque Part 1

╭━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╮
River
╰━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╯

"Are you sure you feel up to this, Reeve?" Piper asked haltingly, softly caressing my arm to snap me out of my daze.

I forced a smile down at her and nodded, not finding any words for a reply. But no matter how much I tried to keep myself in the present, my mind was still in last night putting in place what had happened.

"Jesus, bro, you're huge! What're you now? A bodybuilder?" My brother, my older brother by six years, asked, looking me up and down curiously. "What happened to your chest, though?"

I parted my lips with the intention of saying something like "it's none of your business," but I couldn't find my voice anymore. All I could do was squeeze Piper's hand and stare at him with a frown inching my brows lower.

"Aren't you inviting me inside?" His voice sounded awfully calm, only a little bit nervous. His eyes were clear and pleading, no ounce of impatience, no tics moving his muscles involuntarily. After eleven years since I left home, I could finally say that I saw my brother in a... normal state. I stared at him like he was an alien, because I never saw him... clean. At least not after he turned sixteen.

Gulping back down my high hopes, I stepped on the side, inviting him in. He hesitantly took a step closer, spreading his palm for a shake. Hesitant myself, I took his hand and shook it. Or my shivering shook it. I wasn't quite sure.

Once he came inside, PB closed the door for me, facing me with kind eyes, patient and softened. She kissed me on the cheek, whispering in my ear. "Whiskey or vodka?"

At that point, I definitely needed a healthy glass of vodka. The whiskey was for special occasions. "Vodka."

She nodded at me and took off towards the kitchen as I turned at my brother. "Drew," I prepared myself to ask what he wanted from me. If he was clean and here, it could mean only two things. He either wanted to apologise, which was physically, emotionally and everything else, impossible. He either wanted money. Which made more sense.

"I don't want anything," he said quickly, his hands stuffing his hoodie pockets. "I just wanted to talk to you. Check how you're doing after all this time."

Now, that was a good joke. Him? Check on me? Terribly good joke!

I snorted a laughter, shaking my head at him. "Don't mock me."

He stopped gawking at my apartment, looking at me over his shoulder. "I'm not mocking you." He said in a serious tone.

"Much of an insurance too," I muttered bitterly, rolling my eyes at him.

"You left, River!" He exclaimed, turning at me. "You left me and Mom! Twelve years ago! So yeah! I am checking on you, little brother!"

I scoffed, feeling more ridiculed than hurt by his words.

"We needed you, man!" He moaned, the pain spiking his tone like thorns, an ounce of pleading blooming as a rose.

"If you're trying to make me feel guilty, don't bother. I don't regret leaving. Hell, I never will!" I gritted, my molars grinding. "You said it yourself, it's been twelve years. Don't seem so shocked when I laugh at you checking on me."