álvaro
"hey," he says softly, because micaela is asleep in the bedroom a room away and the walls are paper thin. he and atília sit on the couch with the tv on as white noise. "are you sure you're okay?"
he places his hand on atília's shoulder with a slight squeeze, and he notices the way that his younger brother flinches.
"nothing to worry about," atília replies, and yet he sounds like a robot who isn't capable of feeling; it's a form of protection.
"would you please talk to me?" álvaro begs, and he shouldn't push but half of him feels like he has to, or atília will never open his mouth.
"it is nothing."
"even if you think it's 'nothing', something's still bothering you," álvaro argues, with no real heat behind his words. "just tell me, please."
"i already talked to a therapist," atília says, but uncrosses his arms with a small sigh. "i just... feel like i do not have a right to feel the way i do. i do not have a right to be upset about aidan, a man i was just getting to know before he— and i do not have a right to still be thinking about the girl that... that raped me because it was almost two months ago and i did— i said no, and i do not have a right to feel sick hearing micaela talk about how part of her misses adam even though he abused her, because part of me still misses dad, before he verbally attacked mom and before he left, and this is not— none of this is anything i have a right to feel."
"i... i didn't know," álvaro says, tries to gather the words to make this okay because he was supposed to look after his siblings and he has failed. "i'm so sorry. i didn't know... about the girl."
atília shakes his head, looks at his hands, and álvaro wants to pull him into another hug but can't disrespect his boundaries again. "i know i should be happy, i know that. you are paying for a tuition so i can study what i love, and micaela was able to leave someone who constantly hit her, and i was good enough to get a spot on nyu's soccer team, and i know i should be grateful, but i just feel like... like a part of me is missing."
"maybe," álvaro says. "but you'll find that part of you that you need to feel whole. it takes time, yeah, so you can't fake it, as much as you want to. you aren't indestructible."
"i am a man. i have to be," atília whispers, and plays with the drawstrings of his hoodie.
"you are human," álvaro uses as a counterpoint. "you aren't."
