the spade brothers' little sister

six

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I stared up at Larson and he stared down at me. I didn't say a word - I wasn't sure if I should apologize, beg him to talk to me, or run away from him, so I remained silent. He stared down at me for what felt like hours before he stepped over where I was on the floor blocking the hallway, and made his way upstairs. I sat there for a minute, confused at why Larson completely ignored me.

I watched him walk up the stairs before I jumped up from the ground and followed him to his room. He closed his door behind him, but didn't lock it, so I barged right in.

Larson turned from where he was plugging his phone into the wall and looked at me. He didn't say anything; he stayed silent and glanced back down at his phone.

"Larson," I spoke, trying to keep my voice steady, but I definitely sounded a little whiny. He just looked up at me. "Larson, talk to me." I limped over to where he sat on the corner of his bed and stood in front of him, waiting for him to look at me.

He finally did. And he finally spoke. "I fucking thought we lost you, Brenna." His voice was soft and gentle, unlike Larson lately, who was always so rough loud.

"I'm right here," I explained.

"I see that." He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled me onto the bed so that I was sat beside him. "You ran away," he spoke again after a few moments of silence.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"Don't be." He spoke. More silence. I sat on the bed and stared at the wall across from me, my eyes tracing over the two rock band posters he had hanging up. Larson sniffed beside me and I turned to look at him. His head was down and he was looking at his hands, his hair slightly falling in front of his face so I couldn't get a good look at him.

"Are you crying?" I asked as gently as possible, trying to not make him mad or embarrassed.

He shook his head no and lifted his head up, wiped his eyes, and combed his hair back with his hands. He spoke quietly. "I fucking thought you were actually gone, B," Larson said. "And that it was all my fucking fault."

"It wasn't your fault, Lars," I said, trying to make him feel better.

He sighed. "It was, Brenna. I fucking told you to disappear like a fucking idiot."

"It's okay," I answered.

"It's not fucking okay!" Larson raised his voice as he spoke, causing me to lean away from him. "Sorry," he said quickly, lowering his voice and speaking more calmly.

"It's okay," I answered.

"I just got really scared."

"I understand." I leaned over and gave him a quick side hug.

"I just can't believe I made you fucking run away," he spoke more to himself than me. "I can't fucking believe myself." I didn't respond and instead stared at my hands. I didn't know what I was supposed to say. "I've been a real dick lately," Larson continued, sighing.

"I know," I responded. He raised his eyebrows at me and gave me look, making me chuckle.

"Work has just been hard, money's been tight," he explained. "Just have been really stressed out recently, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you, bub."

"Money's tight?" I was worried - I hadn't heard anything about money being a problem before, and now I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if we ran out of money.

"Fuck," Larson muttered. "It's not, B. I'm just stressed at work is all. I hope you can forgive me for being a complete dickhead." I smiled. "Come here." He gestured for me to give him a hug, which I gladly did. I missed this Larson. The Larson who would hug me without me asking, the one who would soften up and be gentle just for me and no one else. And now I knew why he was acting differently. Work was stressing him out and he was tired. It didn't even take one whole second for me to forgive him because I knew he cared about me no matter what he said or did.