Pure Belleza | ✔️

(61)

Max opened his apartment door and the first thing I noticed, was that it smelled different. Girlier.

And as we ventured further in, I took note of how much colour had been added to his living space. Paintings. Ornaments. Throw pillows. It had character now.

It made me smile.

"Thank God for Amalia," I spun in a slow circle and admired the detail. "This place was worse than rehab before she moved in."

"Was not," he scoffed. "But I won't argue. Thank God for Amalia."

I watched my brother cross the living room with a big grin on his face. He was so in love. And he deserved it. He really did.

"Where is she?" I asked, following him into the spare bedroom.

My bedroom.

It would be for the next month anyway. And then I was free to either move into the Hermosa house or to Texas. But mom wouldn't let me be without spending some time at home with her and dad.

"She went out to get us dinner," he put the suitcase down on the floor beside the closet and slid his hands into his pockets. "She wanted to cook but she ran out of time to get the ingredients. We've both been flat out at work, so she thought she'd pick up some of that fancy smoargasboard stuff. Ya know when they give you a bowl and you choose what meats and stuff you want and you can get rice or noodles and different sauces and wh—"

"Max," I held up a hand to halt his rambling. "Relax. I'll eat. I've been doing that. Ya know, hence I'm here and not still in rehab."

He nodded and looked around the room. "Uh cool. So— um oh— mom knew you wouldn't have a lot of stuff here. Personal stuff. She said to go shopping and charge it to her card if you wanted. She probably told you that."

"She did."

"Cool. Oh I'll show you this—" he slipped past me and crossed the corridor into the bathroom. I sighed and prayed that he'd stop feeling as though he had to walk on eggshells around me.

He opened the vanity door in the bathroom and revealed the clear shelf. "Amalia made a space for you. Whatever you want to put there. Or whatever. Um oh— shit—"

I followed his nervous stare to the space between the vanity and the toilet and saw a set of scales leaning on its side.

"I'll move those. We don't— like who— no one really needs these thi—"

"Max," I snapped and grabbed his arm before he could touch the scales.

His nervous pitiful gaze was almost too much to bare. It felt like a scrutinising pressure. Like I was backed into a corner and although his intentions were good, I hated being fussed over and worried about.

"Please stop," I tried not to get too worked up. "Don't be weird. Don't treat me differently. Please. I just want us to be us. Let's tease each other about our love lives - okay well I'll tease you. Don't tease me. I'm not there - let's watch too much crime channel and eat popcorn and go to weird bars and talk shit about Lucas. Let's just be. . . normal."

His shoulders relaxed and he gave me a real genuine smile for the first time since I'd seen him.

"Yeah. Of course. I'm sorry," he said before his expression became serious and he pointed at me. "No weird bars."

We both laughed and I stepped into a warm big brother hug. Max had a good heart. My entire family did but I'd always been close with Max.

He listened. He understood when something was important to me. He wasn't forceful. This was what I needed.