1. he is waiting for you to kill him, but you wont.
you remember the day he was born, if only barely, remember the glow of your fatherās cigar and the tears on your mothers cheeks and the sound of a babyās whining scream. he has bright blue eyes, and soft black hair, and you love him.
2. he is waiting for you to kill him, but you wont.
you remember his first steps, when his little bare feet padded across your hardwood floor while dad was passed out on the couch and mom was nowhere to be seen. his smile was like sunshine, and his hair had grown fast, and you held his hands and helped him learn to run.
3. he is waiting for you to kill him, but you wont.
you remember his first haircut, because you gave it to him, standing in the kitchen with the kansas sun drifting down to make constellations on the tiles. you brushed his hair with fingers because mom took the last comb with her, and used the scissors youād stolen from school.
(youād thrown out all the sharp things in the house when mom left. no sense letting dad get ideas)
he stood still and let you do your work and when you were done he hugged you, and told you you were the best brother on earth, even though his head looked like it got beat to death by a load of chickens.
(you scraped together all the change in the couch and stole a five out of dadās wallet to take him to the barber a day later, but itās the thought that counts.
4. he is waiting for you to kill him, but you wont.
you remember his first day of school, remember the way his hand sweated in yours when you walked him up to the door.
you hugged him goodbye even though the teacher stared at you, and sat on the wall at the bottom of the driveway and waited for him until it was over.
(you reasoned with yourself that it was because you didnāt have school, but you would have done it on any other day, all the same)
he ran down the hill into your waiting arms, and told you he wanted to be an astronaut when he grew up, and you half-carried him home, listening intently to his dreams of the stars and how reachable they were
5. he is waiting for you to kill him, but you wont.
you remember your first job together, the smile on his face when you got the vault open. you remember the glint of the sun on his glasses and the drift of the dust as it swirled around him.
(you remember buying him those glasses, when he came home in seventh grade and told you he couldnāt see the blackboard. you told dad how much you needed and he gave you a ten, and you bet the rest on a poker game and won.)
(you always won)
6. he is waiting for you to kill him, but you wont.
you remember the day he broke you out, the smile on his face, a little strained, but there all the same, and the way heād clung to you once you were out of harms way, like you were the last branch above the flood.
(you squeezed him tighter when he tried to pull away, and curled your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, because he might think youāre the branch, but heās always been yours. )
7. he is waiting for you to kill him, but you wont.
his eyes are not blue, and his sunshine smile has been replaced with fangs that would put the monsters you used to chase away from him to shame. his skin is scaled, and he looks at you like predator looks at prey, like lions look at antelopes.
8. he is waiting for you to kill him, but you wont.
you wonāt.
annaxmalina
romaincrisis
turnnoffyourmind
baratheonpilled
2087
