A Sky Full of Blue

Chapter 12: Red is the Color of My Blood

"Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red." ~Kait Rokowski

We head down the stairs and when I skip a few, counting off in even numbers, I can feel Theo's gaze on me. I try my best not to stumble as I walk to the kitchen. Although I like my movements to be easy and smooth, I am not the most agile person.

My socks almost slip on the hardwood flooring, but I keep my balance well. I look toward the edge of my periphery, where my brother stands next to an even taller Theo, which makes me laugh. I cannot hold it back, I just can't. When I get something in my head it doesn't just go away.

The cookies are hot and steaming on a plate on the island. I go to the cupboard and grab four glasses. Although there are only three people that I assume are going to eat cookies, I enjoy anything that has to do with even numbers and would hope that my mother stays to try some of her product.

Toby goes to the fridge and gets some milk while I set the glasses carefully on the island. They do not slide, I make sure of it. Glass will not be broken today.

Theo slides next to me, pushing his galsses up the brim of his nose. I sneak glances at him every so often to admire the angles of his face. The edge of his jawline is a perfect ninety degree angle, from what I see. He turns his head before I can look, and smiles.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." His voice is soft, not what my brother would call mocking. It has a hint of something light, and his Carolina eyes bounce over my face. I turn away, cheeks flaming. I grab my phone out of my pocket and snap a few pictures, and Theo's face becomes one of surprise.

I take expressions very seriously, and even though Toby reminds me constantly, I still forget. When it comes to anything that has emotion, I don't understand. Theo shakes his head, shoulders shaking up and down silently. He pushes his glasses back up and more words form at the base of my tongue.

"If your glasses are too big, why don't you get them tightened? I'm sure an eyeglass company would take them in to get them fixed." He shakes his head again, and then takes the glasses off. He pinches the bridge of his nose before putting them back on.

"They don't need any fixing," he says, with a smile. Or one that resembles it. It is way softer than any smile that I've ever seen.

The plate of cookies makes my stomach rumble. Toby comes in, his footsteps heavy on the floor. His eyes are dark, but he places the marigold smile on just for me. It doesn't reach his eyes like it should, like the pictures at therapy used to tell me.

"You're not happy," I point out, taking a large bite out of cookie. The chocolate melts easily on my tongue, and what my tastebuds don't grab at, the sides of my mouth take good care of.

It's as if Toby was in some sort of stupor, and when I talked directly to him, he suddenly snapped out of it. He comes over to my hair and ruffles it. I "shoot daggers" as the common phrase says, keeping my eyes locked with his. He makes a point to stick out his tongue before taking my own cookie from my hands, eating it without a second thought. I cringe.

"You know that has my saliva on it," I almost bite out, upset that I didn't get to finish it. I know there are other cookies, but that was my cookie.

He shrugs his shoulders and takes another from the pile, eating that one just as quickly as the one before.Theo clears his throat. I turn my eyes toward him, and he begins to speak. He seems to like making eye contact with me.

"Are you going to explain those scars?" Toby's face becomes an immediate scowl and he pushes away from the counter, placing his cookie there to sit. He points a finger at Theo, eyes flaming.