"And if the sky should ever die.
We'd make our own light,
You and I."
~John Mark Green
February 19th, 1971.
Everything smells like beer.
It was bad enough he works at the pub and comes back for his home to smell the same. Empty takeout boxes were littered everywhere on the beige carpet and his insides recoil when he notices the black mould from the insides.
How long has it been?
This place was depressing, he had enough money to move but he wouldn't leave his brother just yet. He was just recovering and leaving would just be unfair on his part.
"Edmund?"
His voice bounces off the walls and for a second, he thought he was alone. Pans clanks loudly, his short chocolate hair peeked through the door. Hazel eyes blinks in surprise. "You need anything?"
Edmund scratches his beard, eyes intently staring down Pierce who had a striking resemblance to him. "No, just checking to see if you were home."
A knowing look passed his face, a mischievous glint adorning his irises. "Why? So you can bring your girlfriend over?"
"She's not my girlfriend." Edmund chuckles as they both make their way around the messy kitchen. "Besides this," He motions to the mess, sauce stains dropped from the sink and counters, dirty dishes piled up in the corner of the basin. "Isn't how I'd want her to see the house."
"Of course cassanova."
"I'm a fucking saint."
"Please. If she's anything like Brenda I would advice to hightail it out of her life and run for what's left of yours." Edmund sits on the counter, looking at his little brother from the corner of his eye.
He's slightly offended. "She's nothing like that."
"Mm. And how long have you known her?"
"Long enough. Plus I feel it doesn't matter and I'll have you know I intend to take her to that new place that's competing with the pub. It's more homey and less booze—y, she seems like the kind of person to appreciate that sort of place."
"He does have class." Edmund jokes. "If you're taking her to the diner then you should wear something more..." his voice trails off as he wiped down his hands.
"More?"
He motions for Pierce to follow as he leads them to his bedroom, throwing the wardrobe doors open for a perfect view of his suits. "Take a pick. Girls dig a clean looking guy, take it from a ladies man." He can't hide his smirk and Pierce chuckles.
He shuffles through the hangers for a white shirt and black dress pants, quickly putting them on. He looks at his reflection and wonders if she liked clean looking guys like every cliche out there.
"Why do you even have this?" Pierce adjusts his sleeves, making eye contact with Edmund through the mirror who seemed lost in thought.
He scratched his beard, finding the memory lost in the sea of bad times. "Remember Ellen?" Pierce nodded. "I took her to prom in that. She was pretty and I didn't waste time in spending so much money on a suit. I couldn't throw it out after I got laid in it."
YOU ARE READING
Not more than strangers✔️
Short Story|Completed| What happens when you drop a pebble in still water and the rippling effects of its presence can't be ignored. Meeting someone would have been coincidental, could have been fate or perhaps a mistake like bumping shoulders in a mass of peo...
