"Hunter!"
"Hunter, just take deep breaths,"
"It's gonna be ok Hunter, I promise."
"Chris!"
"Chris help me!"
"Chris?!"
I was trying my best, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to help. Knealing down outside in the pouring rain, I grabbed Hunter's hands as he gasped for breath. This happened a lot, his panic attacks. But this one seemed worse than the others. He didn't even have the energy to slap my hand away or swear at me.
"It's gonna be ok," I assured him; leaning in close to his face. His green eyes stared into mine and I forced away the urge to continue gazing. With my free hand, I moved it around to his back and rubbed up and down. "You're gonna be ok, you're gonna be ok,"
"What's happened?!" Chris demanded as he ran out of the house and towards where me and Hunter sat against the car door. We were getting soaked, but I didn't care. No matter how much I hated my adoptive step brother, I wanted..no needed him to be ok.
"He just collapsed and..I dunno, he's having a panic attack!"
"God," Chris groaned and face palmed himself. "Inhaler, inhaler, inhaler.." he trailed on and felt around in his pockets. Chris was used to Hunter's panic attacks, so he always had an inhaler handy. It was weird that Hunter never kept his inhaler with him, but then he would never use it. He'd rather himself suffocate to death.
After a few moments, Chris was knealing down on the floor and forcing the inhaler up to Hunter's mouth. As usual, my step brother turned his face away as he wheezed and fought for breaths, but also as usual, he gave in.
"No," he gasped; pulling away from the inhaler. He was gripping onto Chris' shirt, something he did when he was either scared as fuck or drunk as fuck. "I don't wanna go..I don't..want-"
"Hey," Chris soothed and smiled a little. "It's gonna be ok. In the airport we'll sit in the corner, far away from everyone else. No one's gonna hurt you, ever."
Let me explain, Hunter had some disorder. Actually, he had many disorders. But this particular one was kind of inbetween anxiety and social anxiety. He hated being around people. Really hated it. In school he had one on one lessons, at home he stayed in his room, and now he was being forced into an airport with thousands of people. The guy was terrified. Which was weird because most of the time, he was a hardcore piece of shit.
Why were we going to an airport? We were moving. We were moving to Virginia Beach because my Step Dad and Hunter's adoptive Dad had gotten a job offer as Chief of Medicine in a higher-class hospital. We currently lived in Alaska, so it was good to be getting away from all the snow. But we were only getting a flat because the job wasn't permanent yet, it was just an 8 month trail. So we were leaving our huge, like really freaking huge house to get some cheap little flat. Ye. Great.
-
Hunter was surprisingly good on the plane. Within 15 minutes of take off, the pale faced boy was asleep and quietly breathing. In the middle of me and Chris, he looked peaceful.
"Thanks for earlier,"
"Chris he was having a panic attack, I wasn't gonna just sit and watch."
"I know," he sighed and gently stroked Hunter's pitch black hair. Hunter was actually really beautiful. Pale face, green eyes, 5 foot 7 and skinny yet a great body. He had his fair share of piercings; a lip ring, a 12mm stretcher in his left ear, and a septum that he hardly ever wore. He was your stereotypical "emo" or "scene" boy with all of the stereotypes included. Yes, even cutting.
Hunter had just, he'd had a bad start to life. I didn't exactly know the details, but Chris had explained more or less what happened to his adoptive son. From what I'd been told, Hunter's real parents hadn't been nice at all. He was put through all types of abuse for 13 years and from what I believe, even raped by his own Father. So 13 years of absolute hell, and then his Father decides to shoot the Mother. Luckily before shooting Hunter, the Police came. I didn't know anything about Hunter's Dad after that. Hunter told me he was dead, but Chris never spoke of it.
All of this, was a no go zone. One word and Hunter would fall into an urge of violence and as of witnessing that many times, I did not want it to happen again.
-
"You sure you can manage all-"
"I'm fine," Hunter muttered as he grabbed a few rucksacks off Chris. Chris, sighing and rolling his eyes, stared after Hunter as he followed my Mom. Hunter hated my Mom, for reasons I would probably never know. They just, didn't get along. But then, that was normal for Hunter. Apart from Chris, I didn't know anyone he actually got along with.
"Is he alright?" I asked, knowing already what the answer was.
Chris just sighed and handed me my bag. "Who knows?"
Walking into the room, I collapsed on the couch next to Hunter. For a brief moment, our shoulders were touching and this didn't bother me at all. In fact, I was kinda comfy.
"Fuck off," Hunter muttered and shoved me away. I looked at him with disbelief, but his glare overpowered mine and I scooted towards the edge of the couch.
"So, where's my room?"
"Oh, that's actually the thing we wanted to talk to you about." Mom explained as she rolled her suitcase through the door. Walking over to stand in front of the couch, she put her hands on her hips. "We didn't want to waste money on getting a 3 bedroom flat. Rent is already hard enough with all the travelling. So you and Hunter are just going to-"
"Kill each other," I snapped. "Mom, you can't be serious? I'm not sharing a room with him,"
"Agreeing with the bitch," Hunter murmured; not even looking up.
"Oh come on," Mom smiled. "It'll be fun,"
"Like hell it will! Mom, come on?!"
"It's settled," Chris said sharply. "Hunter, you spend too much time on your own anyway and-"
"Fuck you," Hunter growled, making me jump a little.
Chris ignored him though, he just carried on. "..and maybe this will bring you closer together. It can be a good thing. Remember when Kat used to sleep in your room when she and her Mom stayed round?"
"Yeah and he threw stuff at me!"
"She snores,"
"What? No I don't!"
"You cry,"
"I cry?"
"Yes. In your sleep,"
"Fuck off Hunter,"
"Yeah," Hunter laughed a little. It was an emotionless laugh, no humor in it at all. He just looked at me and smiled. "I already tried that though, didn't i?"
"Don't even go there,"
"Then don't make me,"
"Guys come on," Chris groaned. "If you still can't stand it in a couple of weeks, you can take turns sleeping in the front room. Is that ok?"
"No," we both said in union.
"Then get used to it. I can't stand this right now, just go to sleep. Both of you,"
So me and Hunter were lying in bed. Seperate beds of course. They weren't far away from each other though, if i stretched my arm out then I could probably slap him. But I wouldn't. Slapping Hunter would result in either one of two ways. One, he would freak out. Memories of abuse would come back to him and he would panic. Or two, he would murder me.
"Hunter? Are you ok?"
"Fuck off Taylors," he snarled; adressing me by my last name.
Ugh. He was so awkward. He was just one of those guys that you wanted to punch in the face. He was such a fucking pain, such a fucking bother, such a fucking..god, he was a fucking delinquent.
-
(AN) I dunno why I decided to make another version of this. I guess I just missed it. Cut Me Apart's almost over, and I just didn't wanna say bye to Kat&Hunter. If you haven't red the 1st one, erm, hi =3 if you have red the first one, don't get all pissy with me for writing it again. the other one will always stay up, i just feel like i need to make a more serious version without all the joking and shit. it's still gonna have all the joking shit, but i need to be more serious about it.
thanks for reading(:
Don't read this if you can't handle swearing, sex scenes, abuse and violence. ok? i'm only warning you once(: