If I Stay✔️

48

T H I R D P E R S O N

"You okay, Z?"

Zac lifted his head and glanced at Callan's worried face. He nodded stiffly before returning his eyes to the floor. Charlie's words had been repeating themselves in his mind: you need to talk to someone. It was true, Zac knew that. He did need to talk to someone, but just who could that someone be?

He hated burdening his siblings with his own thoughts, or feelings. It was something Zac rarely ever done — Grey being the exception, but even then it took a lot for Zac to open up and admit his fears. It wouldn't be fair of him to rely on them — he's meant to be the strong one, the one who's suppose to take care of them — not the other way around.

Callan sighed, heavily, before moving his arm up and around Zac's shoulders, the action and show of comfort making Zac's eyes lift to his.

"Let's go for a walk, I need fresh air." Callan said. He stood, his arm falling from his brothers shoulder as he did. Without casting a glance to Zac, or giving him any chance to agree, Callan walked towards the exit.

What is it with people telling me what to do today. Zac thought to himself, resisting the hedge to scoff. First Charlie, now Callan? Couldn't he catch a break? Rolling his eyes, Zac followed his younger brother and exited the hospital. It didn't take long for him to catch up to Callan — who was taking much slower steps than normal, which made Zac think that Callan must've thought he wouldn't follow.

"That's hardly fresh air," Zac kissed his teeth, voice cold, eyes hard as they stared at the cigarette between his younger brothers fingers.

Callan glanced at him sheepishly, his eyes widening a fraction as if he'd just realised that he'd snitched on himself. "Sorry," he mumbled, half heartedly, having the audacity to bring the tobacco to his lips right in front of Zac.

Furiously, Zac wasted no time in pulling the cigarette from Callan's grasp, a wave of dejavu  washing over him as he recalled doing simialr to Leo yesterday. He snubbed out the lit tip between his thumb and forefinger before throwing it into a near by trashcan.

"Hey!"

Unimpressed, Zac looked at Callan, his arms folded over his chest, one polished eye brow raised. "Don't hey me." He hissed through a clenched jaw. God, he was so fucking angry right now. "What the fuck, Cal? Smoking, seriously?"

"I'm an adult, Z," Callan breathed out, avoiding his older brothers eye, his shoulders tense. "I can smoke if I want to, plus, I really needed that." He admitted, his voice soft.

Zac exhaled a sound, one a mixture of a scoff and a snort. "Do I look like I give a shit? I don't care if you're an adult, Cal. You're nineteen—"

"Almost twenty," the younger interrupted, faltering as Zac's glare hardened.

"You're nineteen. I'm not going to stand by and allow you to slowly kill your self with those things. Not a chance." Clicking his tongue, Zac steered his head to the left, glancing at Callan through the corner of his eyes. "Who else?"

"Hm?" Callan hummed and began walking away, once again avoiding Zac's eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Who else smokes." Zac clarified, tone hard, knowing Cal knew exactly what he was asking to begin with. "I know about Leo, and Jack," He admitted, referring to what he'd witnessed on the bridge. "And now you. So who else?"