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Summary
Jaime hadn’t realized how angry he’d been his whole life. It flares up randomly; the rising tide of pure boiling rage, frustration and despair filling his chest at the most innocuous of things. He’d thought that moving away would help, and in a way it had. It had, he told himself.
He breathes, low and deep, and takes a second to avoid his own gaze in the mirror. He looks up, confronted with his sister’s cool green eyes, and turns his face back down, some unnamable disgust choking him. Jaime spits a bullseye of toothpaste in the drain.
He has an anger problem, that much he knows for sure. The rest? He hasn’t got a clue.