Waving Through a Window (Connor Murphy X Reader)

I hate mornings

I hated mornings in middle and high-school. Not because I was tired or did not want to go to school, but because of the awkward breakfasts with my mother and brother. 

I would get breakfast before getting ready, unlike my brother who hated anyone, even me and my mother, to see him vulnerable, or anything less than as perfect as he could show himself. So, him and mom would look up and ready for the day, while I still looked tired and had only a large T-shirt and underwear on. I refused to get ready when they did because I skipped school half the time and wanted to be in front of mom as long as possible to fake being sick.

Every time I faked being sick, it's like Evan knew. Like twin telepathy, even though we were not twins, or even fully related. I was dads daughter from a previous marriage, and he dumped me on my step mom when they got divorced. 

Anyway, he always seemed to know when I was faking being sick. He would give me that knowing, slightly disappointed look, but not say anything until he got home from school later in the day.

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"You are going to school today and that is that. I don't want to go e-,"

"Then we can skip together! When is the last time we had sibling bonding time?" Evan glared at me, and though he was the least intimidating person to ever exist, I huffed a shut up, flopping on my back on my bed. He walked to the edge of the bed and grabbed my arms pulling me upright once more.

"No. We are both going," 

"Evan, why do you care? It doesn't effect you," He sighed, sitting next to me on the bed and put his elbows on his knees, putting his face in his hands. I copied his stance.

"Yes it does. It makes mom sad. Dad seems to care less and less every day. You and I were the only sane ones left in the family, but now it seems like the only one left is me," I sat in silence for a moment, in disbelief of Evan. I stood, and saw a light flicker in his eyes when he lifted his head from his hands, but his look faltered when he saw the look of frustration on my face. 

"You? The sane one? Really? Don't make me laugh, Evan," I spat, turning to pace in front of the bed like a disappointed parent. "None of us are sane. Dad left us. Not just you, his son, but me, who our mom isn't even blood related to! Mom works day and night to be able to afford us and all of your doctors appointments and therapy expenses, and that's damn expensive. You have depression and anxiety. I probably do too and just refuse to get diagnosed, and hell knows what else is wrong with me," I sighed, staying in place and running my hand through my hair. "None of us are sane, Evan, don't be acting like you're higher than us," I glanced at my brother who looked like he was going to cry, but was too frustrated with him to try to help. 

"Mom will help him," I thought as I threw my jacket over my shoulders, turning to walk out the door.

"I'm leaving without you, so you're getting what you want. You can live with taking the bus for a day," I said, leaving him gawking on my bed.

I passed the kitchen on my way to the front door glancing at mom and giving her a quick smile.

"Morning honey, we're having pancakes," She called out to me. My stomach growled, but I trudged on towards the door. 

"I'm not hungry, see you when you get home tonight," I grabbed my backpack that was already packed and ready to go by the door, and left.