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❛PROTECTIVE BROTHER SYNDROME❜
CHRIS BREATHED IN THE WARM, fresh Derry air with his eyes closed, embracing the feeling of a heated gust brushing over his freckles. The day was peaceful, with the sun beating down just right on him and his sister's pale skin.
He opened his eyes-- immediately swerving as he found his bike had decided to make its way in front of an oncoming car, the driver of which shouted profanities as he flicked a cigarette butt in his direction.
Beverly's melodic laugh left her mouth, blowing away in the wind, a sound which made Christopher let out his own. Beverly had been acting noticeably off, her pale face even more drained of colour with frequent complaints of a headache and sharp stomach pains-- in hindsight, Chris should've been able to pick up on what was wrong.
Perhaps he had, but something inside of him stopped him from fully accepting she was growing up. He was in denial that the lives they knew were now ending, and growing up was a parasite ready for its hosts.
The bike brakes squealed as they pulled up to the metal bike rack on the main street, where all the small independent stores could be found nestled one after the other. The red brick buildings would inevitably be either knocked down or abandoned as Derry expanded, but in Chris' short lifetime they've become a godsend excuse for when he needed to escape the house and had no arcade shift.
"Wait, so, why are we here again?" Chris asked, his eyes tracking the small pebble he kicked along the concrete as he absentmindedly followed his sister in the direction of Keene Pharmacy (a place he avoided at all costs in an attempt to not be ogled at by Mr Keene, Chris' more frailer features most likely reminding the man of Beverly-- a though that made Chris all kinds of disgusted).
Beverly stopped abruptly, causing the unconcentrated Chris to knock right into her.
"How about you wait outside. You know... look around," Beverly licked her lip, thinking of an excuse as she tried to dismiss her brother, a gesture he caught and rolled his eyes at, though she didn't seem to notice.
"Look around? I've lived here thirteen years, I could navigate this street purely by the sound my shoes make on the concrete outside different stores!" Chris groaned, but shoved his hands in his denim jacket pockets and turned away from his sister, making his way in the opposite direction.
He grumbled to himself as he continued to kick pebbles, only looking up to smile politely at white-haired old ladies who would be sure to praise to Alvin in their weekly church meetings how his 'little man Christopher is such a charmer'.
This would, of course, please Alvin to hear, only inflating his fantasies of Chris with a smokin' hot blonde-haired, blue-eyed babe wearing his wedding ring sometime in the future, while Chris, who just wanted to lay down on the soil and be absorbed by the Earth, hated the recognition.
