A Certain Sort Of Loneliness

It's okay

"Lillebror," Lukas called quietly, accent thick with worry "Ya sure you're goin' to be alright?"

They were sat in the car, parked a little away from the school gates. They were early, of course (neither of them liked being late), but that didn't make the flow of half awake teens wandering in and out of the gates, mumbling and chattering amongst themselves.

"Don't call me that-" Emil cut him off immediately, but the job was done - that stupid, stupid word always made him feel so small. So tiny and weak and little and made him want to hide and curl up against Lukas. Stupid. "-I'm not a kid." He added, his anxiety made him feel weak enough as it was.

"I'll be fine." He mumbled, some instinctive child within him taking control and pressing his head against Lukas' shoulder, hair falling across his face - he didn't want Lukas to see.

He was just a little stiff, having grown unaccustomed to even vague (willing) displays of vulnerability or affection - but he accepted it readily, and as his finger began stroking through his hair, Emil could practically feel the waves of near motherly protectiveness rolling off of Lukas.

"You don't have to go in. We can still go-" Lukas began, as he wrapped his arms around Emil as if wanting to hide him from the world,

"Lukas," Emil cut him off again, looking up just enough to meet his eyes, "It doesn't matter anymore,"

"But-"

"I'm gonna go now." Emil untangled himself from Lukas' arms, threw his bag over his shoulder and opened the door.

It was stifling, being cramped on to benches with so many people. As always, the new school term began with an assembly of sorts, in which the head teacher would spend about 10 minutes regurgitating the same information he did every year in a slightly different format: high expectations, best behaviour and hard work. Whatever.

At least now he was safe. Or safer at least (by his standards). After assembly, they had all been sent to their respective community groups (or tutor groups. Or homerooms. Or form. The name changed every year). Having been sat at the back and in his last year, Emil was one of the first to get away, quickly slipping in to an isolated seat in the back of his classroom - even the teacher hadn't arrived yet.

He listened intently, the rush of footsteps outside was unsettling, but it wasn't till the door was pushed open that Emil found himself panicking again. He was ignored mostly, thankfully, as his classmates spared him a glance at worst and didn't even notice him at best, each taking whatever seats they wanted or could.

Maybe this would be fine after all?

"Emil?! Is that you?"

Never mind

Y'all I'm so sorry I forgot to update this fic on wattpad last chapter here have two at once again so sorry