“What’s wrong? Did something happen at work?” he inquires, reciprocating my sign of affection.
I shake my head against his skin. “It’s nothing. I’m fine, I just wanted to hug you.”
Inhale.
Exhale.
“Oh, okay. But you’re sure nothing happened?” He gently pulls away from me, scanning my face for clues. “What’s that?”
He reaches for my brow and wipes something off it. Bringing his fingers up to himself to take a better look, his eyes widen at the red liquid coating the tip.
“What the hell happened? Why is there blood on your brow? Are you okay? Did you get into an accident? Are you hurt?”
He grips my shoulders tightly, scanning my body for more wounds but I brush him off. “I’m fine. I just had to brake rather suddenly at a red light. I’m okay. It doesn’t even hurt, matter of fact, I didn’t even notice the wound.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re fine.”
I ruffle his hair, chortling as I make my way into the living room and fall back on the couch. Visha rushes toward the bathroom before coming back out with a first aid kit.
“That’s so unnecessary.”
He kneels down between my legs and forces me to look at him. “Not to me. You getting hurt is a big deal. You should take better care of yourself.”
A frown creases his brows, and I wince as he dabs the soaked cotton pad on the cut. “You should be more careful. How can I leave knowing you’re so reckless?”
“Where would you even go?” I ask, trying to hold back the laughter so as not to bother him with my treatment. “Right, Bellami mentioned that stupid extended vacation. Maybe you can bring me a souvenir from France and he can shove a baguette up his ass while he’s at it.”
Am I seriously angry right now? It’s not Visha’s fault that his brother is a rude piece of shit.
He suddenly goes quiet and lets his hands fall into his lap. Avoiding my gaze, he plays with the cotton pad and parts his lips, but nothing comes out.
“Visha?”
“I’m leaving.”
My smile falters instantly trying to understand his words, but my brain isn’t registering. My heart sinks, tumbling down into the gutter.
“You’re…leaving?” I exhale the breath I didn’t notice I was holding in. “What do you mean? With whom? Where? When? Are you gonna stay silent? Answer me.”
He lowers his gaze on the cotton pad still in his hand and shrugs. “He’s my brother. We’re family? Uhm…he- you know. He wants to adopt me, and he says everything’s ready for me to go back home to France.”
Home. He calls his brother’s placehome. Am I not his home then? Did those three years we spent together mean nothing? Is it because of that fight we had yesterday? If- if that’s the case, then I can make him stay, right? I can fix this. He doesn’t look angry, just exhausted. Does he really want to go? I- I can’t hold him back, can I? Who am I to try to convince him to stay with me?
I nod, attempting to compose myself. I can’t look hurt or upset. He must’ve thought about this thoroughly. But they only met three days ago, isn’t that too sudden?
“This is all so…sudden. How come you suddenly want to leave? That’s odd. You cling to me like a lifebuoy, and you want to move to the other side of the globe?”
None of this makes sense! Why does he want to leave? Just because they’re blood related? That can’t be it.
He scratches his nape, barely meeting my gaze. “Yeah…I should’ve mentioned this earlier, I guess. I just didn’t know how. He’s my brother.”
That’s the reason? Because he’s his brother?
He doesn’t need me, doesn’t want to be with me. What more is there to wonder about? It’s as simple as that. He’s going back to where he belongs, and I’m going back to my initial life. Who knows, maybe it’s for the best.
“When are you leaving?” I grab the cotton pad out of his hand, squeezing it until my knuckles turn white.
He stares at me seemingly taken aback but doesn’t say much other than, “At the end of the week. He wants us to go as soon as possible.”
