(Brother Series - Book Two)
Stefan Emil Klein; is your average hotheaded teenage boy, or not.
Surrounded by struggling with his gender identity with a family that couldn't even dream about accepting him, and they have no limit to show unwanted he i...
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~ Jonas Ivo Klein ~
Family is supposed to love you. Family is supposed to be there for you. Family is supposed to support you. I have recently decided that I don't have a family, not with those who were meant to raise me that is.
My family is Mrs. Bellamy who bakes me cupcakes when I'm sad.
My family is Penelope who lets me braid their hair when I'm anxious so my hands could be busy.
My family is Stefan who would go to the ends of the Earth to keep me safe.
My family is not Johanna who hasn't spoken more than a sentence to me in the last five years.
My family is not Hans who finds enjoyment in hurting my family.
My family is not Leon who can't decide if he wants to help me sneak food to my family or if he wants to avoid eye contact with me entirely, he has done both.
My family is not my mother who doesn't often lay her hands on my family but she does spit hateful words and sits back while her son and husband does.
My family is not my father who almost killed my family that night.
My family is asleep in his bed and even during a time where he is supposed to be resting and at peace, his face seems to be contorted in pain.
"Stef?" I try to gently shake him, "please wake up."
"Are you okay?" He mumbles, I can see him wince slightly as he turns to look at me.
"Why did you push him? Now you're in pain." He tries to hide it from me but I'm not blind.
"I had to distract him so you could get to the room, I'm okay, don't worry about me."
"Can I see?"
"Jonas, there is no need for that... I'm fine."
"Please just... Let me help." He always helps me and makes sure I'm safe... Someone needs to help him too. Sure there is Penny and even though she is like a sibling to the both of us, it's a little different with your biological family, I will always be thankful to them though.
Finally giving in, realizing I wasn't going to let it go, he slowly lifted his shirt reveling the angry skin under the fabric, and then something else caught my attention.
"Did you sleep in your binder?!" I remember Penelope telling me how dangerous that is and how he is only meant to wear his binder for eight hours at a time, that is what is deemed safe, but he has a habit of wearing it for multiple days until someone tells him to take it off, granted he doesn't usually like me telling him what to do.
