Blue Eyes (bxb)

Eight

"Mum, Dad! I'm home!" I called, entering the house. It was a Friday afternoon, and I'd just finished up with school for the week. It also meant I had dinner with Skai, which I was dreading.

"Hi, honey. We're in the living room!" Mum cried. I followed her voice into that exact to see her, my father, and a guest I least expected.

"Steph?! What are you doing here?" I gasped, running over to wrap her in my arms.

"I... well... it's a long story. Turns out me and Bobby will be staying here for a little while," she smiled, though it was filled with sadness.

"What? Why?" Steph was my older sister. She'd moved out when she turned eighteen - which was four years ago - when she got pregnant with her son, Bobby. She lived with her boyfriend, Michael (Bobby's father), since they'd been together for years before.

"Well, Michael and I are taking a break. Not permanently, just... for a couple weeks or so. I think we both just need some time away from each other," Steph explained.

"Ah, right. I'm sorry, but at least it means I'll get to see you way more often," I shrugged.

"Yes! I miss spending time with my baby bro. How are you, anyways?"

"I'm aight. Not dead, yet," I joked.

"Good. You still got a girlfriend? What was her name again... Grace?"

"Nah, I broke things off with her. She was a bitch."

"Zakary, watch your language," Dad sterned.

"Whatever, anyways I'm with a lass called Skai now. She's nice," I said.

"You don't seem too interested. Is she a bitch too? 'Coz if so imma go to her house and squeeze her 'til she pops." Steph acted out the scene by clenching her fist between one another. She's a sweet sister, always looking out for me even if she is a bit morbid at times.

"No, no, she's nice. In fact, I'm going out for dinner with her tonight. Mum, can you drive me?" I asked.

"I will!" Steph volunteered. "It'll give us some time to catch up."

"Okie dokey. I need to be there for six thirty."

"Fine by me." I heard the light patter of dainty feet potter into the living room.

"Uncle Zakky!" Bobby cried, lifting up his arm to show me he wanted to cuddle.

"Hey, little dude! How's my favourite nephew?" I cooed, tickling his belly gently.

"I am good. Mama said you would play with me in the garden!"

"I have an even better idea. How about we go to the park and I get you an ice cream?" I suggested.

"Yay! Can we play on the swings?" The four-year-old giggled.

"Of course. Go and get your shoes on and we can get going." He tottered off to the front door to slide on a pair of welly boots with Spiderman printed on the side. He looked so much like my sister. His dark brown hair (similar to mine) hung like a curly mop upon his head, with blue eyes and dimples on his cheeks. Steph, too, had blue eyes and dark hair with dimples, though Bobby got his curly hair more from his father.

I never really liked Michael, if I'm completely honest. That might be my over-protective brotherly nature talking, but he always seemed sketchy. He always wore a Nike tracksuit that fit him loosely and a hood pulled over his head. No offense to the guy, but he kind of looked like a druggie (which he probably was) with dark bags under his dull green eyes and an unusually thin face. In comparison to Steph, he looked like he'd been found in a gutter somewhere.