the varani family was hard to love. they all came off very intimidating and maybe even a little bit cold. his parents were a pillar in the community, though it didn’t come with limitations. kiran, was the worst of all of them though. destroying whatever good reputation his parents tried to front. his family was good people, sometimes kiran thinks that the reason why amee was bullied so often was because of him. assuming that she was like him, but more often than not, amee held her own. even punched back when needed to. so it’s hard not to smile at what matty says about her. amee was everything that he wasn’t. and it’s weird to think that at one point he was needed by his little sister. “i actually think it’s the other way around.” he says a little more quietly. he nods anyway. it’s what family was for.
“i think there’s a bit of a difference though,” he starts to say, he doesn’t know if he really wants to dive into it, kiran and matty were known to not being very good at talking about their past with each other, but kiran was feeling a little brave. “did you parents ever teach you how to cook? my mom tried, i just didn’t listen.” he thinks about matty, and how lonely it must have been, only having someone that wasn’t your parents making you food. sure, when you’re a kid your parents could teach you a thing or two, but if they weren’t consistently there then what’s the point? but when matty starts talking about his dad, and that connection, there’s a lump in his throat. it stays there for a while, and he’s finding it hard to swallow.
“it’s uh, it’s funny how i only ever felt connected to him after he died.” he looks away now, out the window, over looking the valley. “my dad died in the spring. right when the flowers are starting to bloom, right when you can start planting seeds for your next crop. something ending, another thing beginning.” his voice drifts off, watching as the sun starting to set out the window. the sky was beautiful, spring around the corner, it staying lighter later. “anyway, despite what i think my father would think of me, i like your assumption better.” he says, looking down at his own mug of chai.
“i think your body says otherwise.” kiran says with a soft smile. but what matty says next makes something hurt inside of him. kiran didn’t have any idea how this night would end, and if he was, for once, being honest with himself, he didn’t want to leave or be alone either. he had spent so much time alone, once he knew what it was like to have another person in his space he figured out how much that he liked it. craved it. “come on.” he says, holding his hand out for matty to take. “you need to sleep.” he gulps now, taking a small deep breath. “i’ll stay.”
“Why can’t it be both?” Matty asks simply. “You don’t see what she sees, you know? You don’t see yourself the way other people see you... The stuff you do that you think is nothing, or that you don’t think about at all, we notice it. Just because you screw up sometimes doesn’t mean you aren’t still a good and supportive brother. I mean, if she needed you, wouldn’t you go running?” There is so much to love about Kiran, and he has so much love to give. Matty wishes he could explain it all, make him understand, make him less afraid of it.
“Well, no,” he allows, “But, like, to be fair to them, I don’t know when they would’ve found the time. When I was a kid, my parents worked three jobs between them, and I couldn’t stand still for long enough to learn anything anyway - it’s just one of those things that fell through the cracks, I guess.” It’s hard not to defend his parents, to make excuses for them, even now. Shouldn’t they be here? He was in a rockslide, for fuck’s sake, and they probably don’t even know. Matty doesn’t want to talk about them anymore. “My... uncle tried to teach me a little when I was in high school, but he gave up when I managed to burn the bottom out of a frying pan. Like, the bottom literally dropped out.” He doesn’t have an uncle - he has Bartholomew, who this story is actually about. Matty’s family is small, and it only feels like its getting smaller. It feels like he’s by himself.
Even though Kiran can’t see him, Matty nods at what he says, though he has no frame of reference for grief, and could never truly understand the depth of what it means to lose someone. “It’s nice to think about it that way,” he says softly, “Something about being in the flowers and trees, and that being some kind of forever. I don’t know.”
It’s such a simple thing, for someone to stay with you when you need them, but Matty suddenly, unexpectedly, feels like he might cry. He’s been alone for so long, and so deeply, desperately sad underneath it all, that for someone to finally say that they will stick around for him is just... it’s a lot. In fact, it’s everything. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Matty takes Kiran’s hand and gets up from the couch, letting his blanket drop to the floor and pool around his ankles as he starts off towards his bedroom. He doesn’t know what to say. The only thing that comes to mind is ‘I love you’, so he keeps his mouth shut.
It doesn’t feel safe to speak again until they’re in his room, and Matty finally lets go of Kiran’s hand so he can get ready for bed. He quickly strips out of the superman pyjama pants (because who actually sleeps in pyjamas?), but he keeps the red sweater on, even though it’s long-since lost its comforting smell. “Do you want to borrow something to sleep in?” He asks, already getting under the duvet. This time, he doesn’t even try to cover his yawn. Matty is exhausted.
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