Sixty Two. What an Ugly Truth It Is

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A/N: Before you start to this chapter check out this beautiful poem by @_its_da_deelz_ it's absolutely fantastic! Thanks, doll! xx

As graceful as a dancer,
As cruel as cancer.
Mysterious as the devil,
With a self esteem lower than sea level.

The Ballerina and the Devil,
Complete one another.
Despite both of their flaws,
They are both frightened by the same cause.

Love, is what they call it.
Is it true?
Or is it a fluke?
Is it a myth?
Or does it drive one to a cliff?

Whatever love is, it has always been Demi and Aidan,
Both completely flawed,
Both behind a strong facade.  

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My mind was racing a thousand miles a minute trying to think of something, anything, that would be a plausible excuse for the bottle of appetite suppressants in Deacon's hand, but the harder I thought the bigger of a blank I drew.

I glanced at my bedroom door, considering making a run for it. I weighed my chances of making a clean escape, but the smarter part of my brain swatted it away instantly. I would probably get a few feet before Deacon caught me and dragged me back.

"Ummm...," I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Those aren't mine."

Deacon nodded slowly, his eyes dropping to the pills in his hands. "Demi, if I were you I would think very long and hard about whether or not you want to go further down this path with me."

"I can explain," I said in a small voice, sensing the dangerous edge to my brother's tone.

"Can you? Okay, go ahead. Shoot."

I paused. "Well...."

An uncomfortable length of silence stretched out between us as I struggled to think of a good explanation, but once again I was drawing a blank.

"I'm waiting," he prompted. "What? Do you not know where to start?"

"Well, I-"

"How about we start with how you could be so fucking stupid."

I tried not to flinch as he shot up to his feet.

"I mean really, how dumb could you get to go back on the pills that put you into cardiac arrest? Do you remember that, Demi? Do you? Because I do. I'm the one who found passed out on your bathroom floor with a barely there heartbeat and a bottle of these fucking pills spilled out next to you."

"Deacon-"

"You were almost dead," he cut me off, his voice wavering. "You were dying. If I hadn't walked in, or if I had just been a few minutes later you would've be gone. My twin would've been dead. I wouldn't have a sister anymore."

I blinked rapidly, my tears prickling at the back of my own eyes as I watched his own water as well. "I know, I-"

"You know?" He took a step closer. "You know, and you still decided to fall back into this habit? You still decided to look me in the eye and lie to me not once, not twice, but every fucking day from the moment you decided to take these again?"

"I'm sorry," I sniffed, wiping the wetness under my eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Deacon. I wanted to tell, and I was going to tell you-"

"When?" He snapped. "When were you going to tell me? The two other times I asked you? When you straight up lied to me? I don't believe you, Demi. I don't believe a word that comes out of your mouth. I don't believe you were going to tell me, and I don't believe you're sorry."

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