Surviving Sang

The Precipice

"North doesn't have that kind of patience when it comes to Sang," I offered my two cents as the front door swung open, flinching when it banged against the wall.

"That's why we're meeting here," Kota explained with a grimace, shifting closer to the edge of the cushion he was on. "In case we need to hold him down."

Fuck.

I rolled my shoulders, loosening them up.

"What's going on?" North's voice boomed through the house, as he stepped into the living room. "I got here as soon as I could. Luke, you red-lined?"

"We're in a bit of a pickle," Luke explained carefully, looking to Kota for help.

"Silas and Sang had an argument today, but he's not telling us what happened," Kota explained, gesturing to the frozen Greek. "We need your help getting him to talk."

North watched Silas with a frown, before turning to Kota with a lowered brow.

"Was it about the team?" North asked bluntly. "Or something between them?"

"We don't know," Kota admitted, pursing his lips. "We just know they're both upset, and Silas hasn't said a word since Luke found him in Uncle's office."

"Where's Sang?" North asked, heading over to the couch Silas was slouched on.

"She's safe," Kota answered quickly. "She's just upset, and asked that we don't bother her."

North's frown turned back to an unmoving Silas. "Si? Ti synévi? Eínai káti idiotikó metaxý ton dyo sas kai prépei na to apolýsoume?" What happened? Is it something private between you two, and we need to fuck off?

Silas blinked once, his sizeable shoulders slumping as he turned slowly towards North.

"Ti tréchei?" What's wrong? North pressed, eyes narrowing on the Greek before him.

"Aftí me miseí." She hates me, he whispered hoarsely, fingers gripped so tightly together I was afraid he'd snap one off. "Katastrépsa ta pánta. Teleíose." I ruined everything. It's over.

I didn't understand a word he was saying, but that didn't stop my heart from galloping into overtime at his broken tone.

"Exigó. Tóra amésos" Explain. Right now, North demanded. Kota cleared his throat, and North laid a hand on Silas's shoulder. "In English. We're all family here."

Silas took a few moments to gather his words, eyes lowering shamefully, before he took in a deep breath and I mirrored the action.

"I swear, I wasn't bragging about it, North. They were just being dickheads, and I was tired of it. I didn't think...."

"Who was being a dickhead?" North asked, gripping Silas's shoulder tighter when he'd trailed off. "What did they do?"

"Típota." Nothing, Silas sighed, eyes straying back to his hands as my own fingers sought out the back of a chair. It was taking everything in me not to put my fist through a wall now that Silas had switched back to Greek. "It was the chazos podosfairikí omáda." It was the stupid football team.

"The what?" I grit out through clenched teeth, fingers sinking further into the chair's fabric.

My breath cut short when I saw tears well up in Silas's eyes, and my eyes cut back towards the forest. I'd never seen Silas cry before.

"The football team," he explained, voice choking up. "I was stupid and didn't think of the effect it could have. I just wanted them to shut up about Sang, so I didn't deny it when they asked if I'd slept with her. She found out."