Need You -N.H- Book Two

Twenty Three; Holding Out For A Hero

Holding Out For A Hero

I throw the empty bottle across the room and let it smash into the wall across from me. Shards of glass cascade over the floor and I fall to my knees against the bed. I had gone to see her, wanted her to know that I was getting better. That I was going to be there for her.

But as I stood in the door I could hear every word that she mouthed to his unconscious body. I don't know what I am without you anymore. She said it to him like she meant it, like she really wasn't sure who she was without him. If I knew anything about love and my own emotions I understood that she was feeling this because some part of her loved him.

I don't blame her, but I couldn't stay there. Couldn't stand there and watch her sob over his quiet body like he was the love of her life. So I did the worse thing I could think of, picked up a body of whiskey and came home.

Now I sit on the floor in a pile of sweat and tears. Glass covering everything in my room, it really felt like the glass was burying into my heart. I hear the door open but I don't bother to look up because I know it's my brother standing over me.

"This is not what I meant you twat." He says pulling me off the floor and putting me on the bed. He helps me pull off the wet sweater I have hanging off of me and hands me a clean white shirt. "You smell like a toilet, when was the last time you showered?"

"I don't fuckin' remember, it doesn't matter anyway." I say throwing my hands around, I knew I was tanked.

"We've still gotta live with you mate, get up and shower. Then I'm going to kick your ass for being such an idiot."

Greg grabs me by the collar of my shirt and shoves me down the hallway towards the bathroom. He closes the door behind me, I wait five seconds before trying the knob but he's got a hold of it from the outside.

"Shower you dick," he yells from the other side. I groan at his words.

I turn at stare at myself in the mirror like if I stare long enough my reflection may change but it doesn't.

I just look at the sad sack of nothing I've become. Tired with bags under my eyes and hair that needed to be cut badly. There are a few left over purple spots from the bar fight and my eyes are darker than I've ever seen them before.

I lean against the toilet to control myself as I turn on the shower to keep myself stable. The warm water is a rude awakening on my skin, warming the inside of my body and making the booze in my stomach bubble. I take a minute, leaning against the back of the shower to compose myself.

It only makes this worse, I crumble to the base of the tub and put my head on my knees. I hadn't cried in a long time, not since we found out Sarah only had months to live. What changed from then, we were so happy back then even in the sadness of what was coming we were happy.

But just like before I left her, it was for good reason but I left her completely. I should have tried to be there more, tried to show her fun times. Instead of being over protective with her. When she was sick she still hated everyone caring for, now that she was getting back to herself she probably hated it even more.

Louis never saw that side of her, depleted and heartbroken in her supposed last months with us. If he had seen her like that he would be the same as me, cautious with her. Sadly that wasn't the case, part of me was glad. He was careless with her, took her on adventures and showed her she didn't need to be scared anymore.

I just reminded her of the fear she had when she was sick.

I laughed thinking about the day I walked down those stairs, watching her run around in the mud. She looked so carefree that day, like nothing could touch her beside the rain falling upon her. She was laughing to herself and playing like no one was watching, but I was. I would have stayed there for hours to watch her. I should have kept quiet that day, not said a word but I just needed to hear her voice.