nothing less ➸ demar derozan

thirty-eight

"And I can give you an ass whooping without it being illegal," he says once he releases me from the hug.

DeMar chuckles, "Siblings or not, Imma give you an ass whooping."

Arion and I laugh and then he leaves the room. He closes the door and DeMar gets up to lock it. I thank him before resting my head back onto the pillow. He goes into my bathroom and washes his face and brushes his teeth. I slowly get up and then fall back down because it strained my head. He noticed me wincing and quickly came to my aid.

"C'mon, I got you," he places his hand behind my head and helps me lift it as if I'm a baby. It wasn't that I couldn't lift my head—I could—it's just it was so heavy that it hurt. Once I stand up, he removes his arm and stares at me waiting for his next instruction.

"I'm good." He nods before he watches me intently as I walk into the bathroom. I brush my teeth quickly trying my best not to bring more pain to my head. I walk back out and DeMar is sitting on the couch playing with his hands.

I wouldn't say we were 100% good, but we were at least 80%. There was a lot things that I missed while we were separated that never really got spoken of. There was stuff that I didn't even want to bring up because I knew it'd hurt me, but we had to talk about it in order to move on. We talked about most of the things on the day of my mother's funeral—before we had sex.

"What's wrong?" He whispers. He looks at me slowly and turns his entire body to face me.

I shake my head slowly. His daze was becoming intimidating and it was like I lost my words. I wipe the sweat of my palms on my shorts and avoid eye-contact before speaking, "Am I the only one who feels like there isn't a connection between us?"

He furrows his eyebrows, "You don't like me?"

I shake my head quickly, "No—I didn't phrase that right. Am I the only one who feels like we need to talk about something?"

He stares at me blankly before slowly averting his eyes. He could feel it too, but I wasn't even sure how to start the conversation either. I didn't know what to say.

My mind went blank.

"How are you?" I ask him softly.

He sighs and shrugs, "I don't know. Honestly, I'm tired. Just tired and angry of what happened two weeks ago. I'm still grasping everything together as you are. None of this shit should've happened. Everything just feels weird. I should be asking you that question, Ella, how are you?"

I shrug like him. Tears threaten to spill and I feel my throat closing up, "I feel like shit. It was a wrong turn that ended his life on his birthday. A fucking wrong turn. He didn't even get to graduate, D." By now I'm sobbing. I couldn't even say another word because the sobs were so loud. He hugs me and digs my head into his head. It hurt but I let him since it felt soothing. "It hurts knowing that I won't ever get to see him again roaming these halls. He won't come in my room and sleep on the couch anymore. He won't ever come home."

"Shh, Ella," he rubs my back with his giant hands.

I lay on his chest for about fifteen minutes until silence draws between us again. I could feel DeMar's heart beating quickly as if he was nervous.

"Why are you so nervous?" I ask him and get up.

"I'm terrified."

"Why?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"I'm terrified of what will happen to us," he says truthfully. "I love you, Ella. I love you more than I ever loved someone and it scares the hell out of me. I'm just scared I'm going to screw this up because I always do. I've never failed at screwing us up. I've caused you so much pain and it breaks my heart when I'm reminded of it."