We shift forward quietly and I slightly crouch so we both can fit at the slither of the open door.
“I don't know what time it was, but I went to find Wren to apologise.”
“Apologise for what?”
“The hassle–I don't know? Having to get involved?”
“You didn't feel like you needed to apologise because he caught you with someone else?” Starling is the one asking and I clench my fists at the accusation he's suggesting. Roo’s a good girl, she wouldn’t do something like that.
“Wren and I aren't dating. I've told you. I only met him this weekend.” My chest kind of hurts at that and I lightly rub at the ache. No we're not dating, but she made it sounds like it wouldn't ever be an option.
“Right, yes. So you then slept all night with a man you only met that day?
“I didn't spend all night with him. I went back to my room. Alone.”
“So no one can collaborate that you were in your room all night.” It's a statement not a question.
“This is ridiculous. If everyone slept in their own rooms, who is collaborating their story?”
“This isn’t one of your made up detective stories, Miss Osbourne. Someone is really dead. Someone, who until recently you were going to own this very house with, has been murdered.”
I want to rip through this wooden door.
Sensing my rising anger, he grips my t-shirt by the nape. Every question they both asked me yesterday always centered back to Robin, which made it clear she’s their main person of interest.
“Leave it, mate.” Cardinal whispers firmly, but I feel like I'm honestly being suffocated with the urge to get to her, protect her from those vipers and figure out a way to stop this madness. It's so obvious she hasn't done anything, so I don't know why they're content in questioning her so much. My emotions get too heavy to bear and I push away from our position. His hand lets go of my t-shirt and I don’t look back as I climb the stairs opposite the library. A coffee probably would have cleared my thoughts, butthese new feelings are too raw to a point it physically hurts. I just need to lay down and center myself.
SKETCHING always frees my thoughts and when I can't sleep, I doodle like it can release my pent up energy that keeps me from turning off. Last night I was so pissed off because despite giving her no reason to, Robin doesn't trust me. Absent-mindedly my fingers had taken a pencil and started to sketch those rich honey shaded eyes. I gazed over the many pieces of paper across the table, all which had enchanting irises staring up at me. I can't get them out of my head. She's so radiant like the purest form of sunshine.
The pencil lands on the paper as without warning, Phoenix walks into my bedroom. I know it's him because he's the only idiot who would barge in without knocking, but maybe it’s my own fault for not locking the door.
“I could have been masturbating you know.” I say, glaring over my shoulder as he just throws back his head and laughs.
“Bitch please. Have you already forgotten how long we lived together at school? It's nothing I haven't seen before.” Flicking my tongue against my teeth, I’m not evening musing him because that never fucking happened. Falling back onto my unmade bed, he produces a can of beer and an unopened bottle of juice from behind his back. I make grabby hands for the drink as he holds it up above his head, suggesting I get up and take it from him. Sighing, I cross the room and throw myself down on the bed, crossing my ankles and snatching the juice. Probably not the best way to open a bottle, I use the back of the heavy cast wolf ring on my middle finger and toss the cap onto the bedside table.
“You treat this place like a hotel!” Phin knocks my shoulder and cracks open his can of beer. He lays his head against the headboard and exhales loudly. Sitting together like we've donefor years, I pat his knee, my messy curls falling onto his shoulder as I burrow my own head there. Taking a deep sip from his can, he barely whispers like he's exhausted. “I’m so overwhelmed.”
“I know bud. I'm here.”
“It feels like I lost him a long time ago, you know. He was never a good brother. I knew we could never patch things up, but this is so permanent.” He shakes and my arm instinctively snakes around his waist. I’ve always hated his brother on his behalf, but I also understood his loss. He was mourning what could have been. The what ifs. Thewhat if he magically came to his senses one day and loved Phin truly like the brother he should have.
“He might have been the worst, but no matter what he did, he never dimmed your shine mate. Until now he let you live however you wanted, completely free and unburdened. It might have not been the best thing to do, but he gave you anything you asked for and I’m sure that came from a place of endearment. Even if he wasn't aware of it. You've had a couple of bad months, but we're here and your spark is still so bright,” I reach for the can and he lets me take it, placing it fully out of his reach on my bedside table. “You don't need to drink, Phin. You're overwhelmed and so fucking sad. But this is just dulling the pain I think you need to feel right now.”
A fat tear rolls down his face and he buries his head in my neck.
Ruffling his hair, I simply support my best friend as he cries into me. His body shakes a little, but after a couple of minutes, he escapes from the air and wipes at his face. “I think I finally want to see your therapist.”
I nod. “She's fantastic, Phin. Really helped after Mum.” he nods too, resting his palms on his pulled up knees. “We’ll sort it when we're allowed back to earth. I promise.”
Turning his face towards me, I’m given a half smile with watery crinkled eyes. “I don't think I could ever live without you man.”
I chuckle. “I could be without you, you're so annoying.”
He gasps in faux shock and hits me on the shoulder before placing his hand to his head. “You peasant. How very dare you.”
I shrug. “I can't live without you either. You know you’ll always have Robin too.” Reach over, I grab my juice, drinking half of the bottle and passing him the rest. Something I can’t place flashes in his eyes at the mention of Roo, but I can’t tell what. “It's time to sober up. We need to make a plan.”
AFTER I finished relaying my plan to make what Detective Featherton would call a murder board—otherwise known as a suspect board for the norms—Phin frowns, leaning his head slightly to the side.
