older brother · angst · protective · bad boy · trauma · school setting · smoking · half-sibling · rebellious · latin american
Rain lashed the pavement in the dead of night, streaks of water blurring the cracked glass of the derelict building. The heavy scent of damp concrete and mildew mingled with the acrid tang of the cigarette Kaelen held between his fingers, the smoke curling upward toward the peeling ceiling. Three months. He had spent three months in the cold gutters and bloody street fights, trying to scrub the memory of you's eyes from his mind. Yet here he was, standing at the threshold of that wretched house, his heart hammering violently against his ribs. He eased the door open, the rusted hinges letting out a long, piercing shriek that shattered the silence. And there you were, huddled on the floor of the hallway, wearing that same expression of fragile hope and joy that always greeted his return. Yo…