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evangeline blackwood

"Stop fucking falling over!"

"Where the fuck are you taking me?" He slurs, leaning onto me. "If this is the part where you kill me, Eva, you need to make them play YMCA at my funeral."

I look at him in disgust, "Tell me you're joking."

"No." He shakes his head, stumbling up the stairs to my house. "YMCA, Money In The Grave and Ladbroke Grove."

"You're fucked."

"Thanks for the observation." He blows me a kiss and I push him onto the wall as I fumble around in my pocket for my house key.

"Why are we at your house?"

"Because Morgan told me to make sure you are safe and I have no fucking clue where you live. This was my Plan B." I explain, gesturing for him to follow me.

We're not even completely upstairs when he bolts into my bathroom and vomits. I gag at the sound and smell and pray for it to stop soon.

"Fucking hell, how much did you drink?!?" I exclaim, waiting for him to come into my room.

"Don't start, Eva." He mutters, narrowing his eyes, his voice is distant and bitter. It's almost as though he's holding himself back from snapping. "I can't be arsed dealing with your constant bullshit."

I know it's the alcohol talking but I can't help the lump building in my throat.

"Angst doesn't look good on you." I test, narrowing my eyes as his glare fixes upon me.

"Who the fuck are you speaking to?" His eyes flashed with anger and it unnerves me slightly. I've never seen him like this before but I think there's something bothering him. There must be, this isn't the man I've come to know.

But he isn't using it as an excuse to treat me like shit.

"I should be asking you the same question." I take a step forward and he tears his eyes away from me, almost as though he realised that he was in the wrong. I point to the bedroom door, "Out there, I don't care what you do or how you speak to people as long as it's justified. I don't care if you drink until you pass out or smoke weed everyday because that's your choice. You can get into fights and scare people into staying away from you, you can make people listen to you. But if you want to stay in my circle, you don't ever disrespect or shout at me without justification ever again. I don't listen to you, I ain't below you, Dee. You're supposed to be different." I lower my voice at the end.

That's when our gazes meet again, that's when he finally looks at me like no one else ever has before. The raw intensity and vulnerability that I see in his eyes takes my breath away. He's looking at me like no one ever has before.

"You're right." His beautiful blue eyes water and he shocks me even further.

He dropped to his knees right before me, wrapping his arms around my waist and leaning his head onto my stomach.

"Don," I cradle his head hesitantly, "Speak to me, please. I'm...I'm worried about you."

"You're so good, so innocent. You deserve better than this." He mumbled quietly and I feel my shirt begin to wetten.

I unwrap his arms and kneel on the floor next to him. "I ain't below you but you ain't below me either. Whatever it is, whatever's hurting you this much, we can get through it together." I run my fingers through his warm, brown hair, "Round here, we take care of each other. That includes you too. And if you don't want to talk to me, that's fine. But promise me you'll speak to Apollo or Morgan, or even Ashanti, if you need to."

"Fucks sake." Adonis mutters, standing up and moving across the room. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

I stare at him in confusion, following him as he goes to my window.

"Like what?" I ask. "Sad?"

The sudden vulnerability etched onto his face lets me know wholeheartedly that it wasn't what he meant, but I've hit upon something important regardless.

Hesitantly, I lean forward, slowly moving to rest my head on his shoulder. Adonis tenses but doesn't make a move to push me away.

"Everyone gets sad, Adonis." I admit stupidly.

He doesn't scoff at me, not like I expected him too. Instead, he remains still but I can still feel his body shake slightly from the tears strolling down his cheeks.

"I get sad a lot, to be honest." I continue. "You don't have to be embarrassed or out about it. I understand. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"From what I gather, you've had a pretty shit life." His words hit me full force, but I ignore the sudden pain in my chest. "You have every single right to be sad. You lost your older brother, I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost Apollo or Morgs or Phoe. Even Rory despite her being the most annoying person on the planet."

I shrug.

"I don't think you earn the right to be sad, you know. People just are sometimes."

He doesn't answer me and just signs. It's hard to tell in the dark but I think the tears have stopped.

"I haven't had a shit life either." I correct him, "My Mums are amazing. My Dad has never really been around because he gets deployed but before Jonah died, he was incredible. I've got a good family and good friends, I often ask myself why I feel so lonely."

"Because he's not here with you." Adonis whispers and I know he's talking about Jonah.

I nod my head, "Everything in someone's life can be perfect, but it doesn't mean they'll be happy. I get it, okay? That's all I'm trying to say. You can't tell someone that they can't be happy because someone else has it better, just like you can't tell someone that they can't be sad because others have it worse. At the end of it all, you're going to feel however you're going to feel and no one can tell you otherwise."

"I've never really thought of it like that." He admits, interlocking his fingers and staring at them as his arms hang down. "I just...I don't know."

"You're not in any trouble are you?" I question gently, recalling how he showed up at my house covered in blood not even a week ago.

"No." He chuckles lightly, "I'm a boxer."

"You?" I physically have to stop my jaw from falling open.

"Me?"

"You're a boxer?" I don't mean to sound so shocked. "But you're..."

"Amazing? Too fit to get hurt? Already know that." He smirks and I finally see his cheeky self start to appear again, despite the effect of the alcohol.

"No." I deadpan, "You're too soft."

Adonis snorts and drops his head. "I'm not."

"You seem it." I dare to say, "You're not callous."

"I'm not some cold-blooded fighter. I box, just like Apollo plays football and Ashanti plays rugby. It's just something to do, something I enjoy."

I hummed, "And what do I do?"

"You write and read all them old books." His eyes drop down to my lips for a split second, "Or am I wrong?"

"I've never told you that."

"Didn't have too." His lips tug up again, "I pay attention."

I don't say anything as he takes a step closer to me.

"Finish the quote for me," He twirls a piece of my hair around his finger, "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of.."

"His and mine are the same." I finish, "Wuthering Heights. Personal favourite?"

"More like Rory's. She decided to read it when she was 12 and she wanted to speak about it with someone so I read it too." He tells me, lips tugging up as he reminisces. "Apollo and I just did everything for them both. I needed to show Rory the normal side of family life, so I did."

"You're a good brother, you know? I've never met anyone who interacts with their siblings like you."

He snorts, "You haven't heard the half of it." His chuckles die down and his grin deflects slightly, "We never used to be that close."

"Why do you box?"

"Honestly?" He diverts his red-rimmed eyes away from mine, "It always went back to them kids. Protecting them, making sure no one could ever hurt them. That's all I cared about, that's all I care about."

"I get what you mean." I agree with acquiesce, "I'd do anything for Atlas."

He eyes me cautiously, as if pondering on something in his mind, before he eventually speaks up. "How did your older brother die?"

I smile sadly, despite the ache in my chest. "He was stabbed just outside the park."

His eyes widened and his mouth drops open, clearly not expecting something so morbid as an answer.

I continue as he doesn't speak, "He was 18. They never got the people who did it."

"What the fuck."

"Innit."

"Eva, I-" He cuts himself off, "God, you're so strong."

"I'm not." I laugh, if only he knew how truly weak I was.

"How do you even cope with that?" He stutters, sounding flabbergasted. "I don't..how?"

"I ain't got any other choice." I shrug my shoulders because, realistically, what else can I do? "He's gone and I can't ever bring him back. So I just deal."

Confession: When your sibling dies, you lose a part of your past, your present, and your future. It's irreparable. It never goes away.