Page 51 of Burn Bright
“I. Don’t. Care. About.It.So why the fuck do you?” He’s glaring.
I glare back. “Just let me clean this up.” I have to make it right, and what if he cuts himself on the pottery? I’ve injured himenough.
Charlie rakes a frustrated hand through his golden-brown hair. He tosses the same hand at me. “Go back to bed.”
“I can’t?—”
“Stop,” he sneers at me. “The self-flagellation routine is tired. You’re not the cause of my pain. You can’t hurt me. Not by breaking a stupid cup. Not by living five feet from me.” He sweeps me. “Do you understand?”
All I understand is the crater-sized rock in my throat. “No,” I choke out.
Charlie stares so deeply into me; it almost overwhelms me to sudden, scalding tears as he says, “You feel everything. I feelnothing.”
It pushes me like a shove against my chest.
“Go to sleep,” he says numbly.
At this, I hand him the pottery. He collects the last of the shards, and I walk to the bathroom. Unable to be present while he sweeps up the remaining bits and pieces.
I tuck myself on the floor beside the toilet. And I cry. I don’t even know why the fuck I’m crying, other than it’s releasing this knot in my body that so badly wants to untangle.
Charlie must’ve called Beckett.
He comes in and takes a seat on the floor across from me. His hair is disheveled like he abruptly woke up. His black drawstring pants hang low on his waist, his tattoos visible along his carved bicep. The light in the bathroom causes him to squint a little as his eyes adjust.
“You need the sleep,” I rasp out. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” I’m screwing everything up. I rub roughly at my wet face.
“I’d rather be here,” he whispers, his voice so soothing in comparison to Charlie’s. He wears remorse. “Whatever Charlie said to you?—”
“It’s not that.” And this wouldn’t be the first time Beckett has tried to apologize on his twin’s behalf.I broke his Grecian cup.He doesn’t care.So why do I?I don’t know.
I don’t know.
Am I the only Cobalt who doesn’t know enough? Am I the only one who would think,I don’t fucking know?
I press the heel of my palm harder against my eye, trying not to groan out my gnarled emotions. I manage to get out, “I’ll get over it.” I hope.
He rests his forearms on his knees. “You should talk to Dad.”
I shake my head so hard, a muscle screams in my neck to stop.He wouldn’t understand.I’m being unreasonable. “I’m okay,” I promise. “I’m okay, really, man. This is just…me being me, you know?”
Sensitive.
Fragile.
Irrational.
Ben.
I use the side of my fist to dry the last of my face.
Beckett slides over to me, wedging himself on my other side. He wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I love you, Pip. You being exactly who you are, I love you.” He squeezes me a little fiercer than usual. “N'en doute jamais.”
Never doubt that.
It burns my eyes. “I love you too, Beck.” I breathe in, breathe out. Deeper. Until I can swallow the rock back down. “N’en doute jamais.”Never doubt that.
“Je n’ai jamais pu,” he murmurs.I never could.
