Chapter 5

“You went to see Josh again, didn’t you?” The moment I walked through the door, I was pulled into his arms. His sharp nose brushed against my neck as he inhaled, his breath light and shallow. My brother always smelled faintly of hawthorn flowers, a scent that clung to him like it was a part of his soul. Under the dim light of the lamp, Liam’s face looked almost ghostly pale. His features were striking, carved out like ink spilled on white paper—beautiful, but fragile, as if the slightest touch might shatter him. “I wasn’t—” I started. “Shut up.” He cut me off roughly, his knuckles brushing against my shoulder blade. The unfamiliar sensation sent a shiver down my spine. But this time, I didn’t pull away. It suddenly struck me that Liam was like a stray dog, desperate and cautious, making sure the broken little doll he’d picked up still belonged to him. I smiled faintly, reaching up to brush the messy strands of hair falling into his face. And then I froze. He was burning up. “Liam, you’re running a fever,” I said, my voice trembling as I steadied him. He looked worse than usual, his face drained of color, his body clearly struggling. Yet he still stood there stubbornly, his eyes fixed on me. “You promised you’d be back by six,” he rasped, his voice cold and hoarse. “I had to wait for you.” … The clock was already nearing nine. It hit me like a punch to the gut: I’d completely forgotten the time because I was so caught up in my own mess. Even with his fever, even knowing I’d forgotten, Liam had waited for me. He always waited for me. He collapsed onto the couch, his exhaustion finally catching up to him. His eyes widened slightly when he saw me heading to the kitchen. Because for the first time in my life, I was making him dinner.