Chapter Text
Pearl stands behind a door, listening to the fight. Quick angry familiar voices in a spat, more violent than any before. There had been many before, heated discussions between mother and child.
“You bring shame to this family, Xelqua.”
Their mother’s voice is cold. Frigid, dissapointment dripping off of every syllable as she reprimands Grian for… what exactly For being in love? That was normal. Why was that shameful to her, to the church? The only way to find out was to keep listening, but continuing to listen meant she had to hear. The fight, the eventual end, and then nothing would really be resolved. They would all go back to their rooms, never confronting the root issue.
If she was feeling brave, Pearl would go out into the hall. She’d sneak into her brother’s bedroom, and he’d always be expecting her. Which made her wonder if he waited up after every fight, and if that’s why he looked tired sometimes in the mornings. Although, he didn’t sleep much regardless. He had always explained it as his mind keeping him awake.
On the nights she was brave enough to go, they would talk. They were both touch starved, and would hold each other and talk and cry. An anchor you could say, though their lives were stable. They always had food on the table, and their mother would drive them to church every sunday (although neither of the children wanted to go), and to school in the mornings.
That wasn’t enough. In fact, it had been during one of those talks that Grian had explained that. He had explained that connection was also a need. He and their mother had a fight about that a few nights ago, actually. She had claimed connection to God was all they needed. He had said that psychology proved otherwise. That was one of the nights Pearl was too scared to go into the hall.
Tonight, Grian is agitated and angry as he speaks.
“Do I? Or are you just being insensible?”
“You will not speak to me that way! You are shameful, and must repent.”
“For what? For being in love?”
“Please. Whatever you have with that… that boy, it’s not love.”
“HA! Like you would know anything about love!”
A cracking sound fills the air. All goes silent.
Grian doesn’t scream, but an intake of breath is audible even from Pearl’s hiding place in the hall. This is a noticable shift from their usual routine of talk, yell, talk, retreat. Their mother speaks again, low and angry.
“You are not to speak of him. You are not to speak to him. Understood?”
Grian laughs coldly, the sound twisted.
“Oh, I understand perfectly what you want. Too bad you won’t get it.”
He walks away, grabbing something from the hall table as he goes back to his room. Pearl takes a step back as he walks down the hall. He glances at her for a split second, and if his anger was shards of ice caught in his eyes, it melted into an apologetic wave of water with the gentleness he reserved for a select few people. Those void dark eyes say I would never hurt you, you are always welcome, you are loved.
That is why she doesn’t knock, she simply enters his room, shutting the door behind her. The room is decorated in shades of gold, polaroids tacked up onto a board. Grian is standing in the center, packing his bag.
The green hiking bag, meant to comfortably carry supplies while a person walked. There are supplies being stuffed in now, a bottle of water, socks. Grian had put on his thick red jacket, used only to ward off the night chill and the rain. He was leaving, of course he was. After that, he deserved to.
Their mother was intense at the best of times, but physical violence? That line had been drawn in the sand. That line was crossed. Pearl was scared, and she hadn’t even been the one hit.
Grian turned to face her, and the fading angry mark on his face intensified the sinking feeling that had gripped Pearl.
“Hey starry. I… I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
She throws herself close, enveloping him in a hug.
“I know.” she mutters into his shoulder, voice unsteady. “I know you have to go, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Well, it’s not, but I’m almost eighteen. I’ll come back for you. Promise.” He cards fingers through where her hair had come undone from its updo. “Whatever you do, be safe, okay?”
She is thirteen. He is seventeen. They have been playing out this dynamic for years, of caretakers, of siblings, of caregivers. They are each other’s anchors. When Grian started dating Scar, he quietly told Pearl and explained love and attraction to her. When Pearl started her period, Grian was the one to quietly buy her supplies. He was trustworthy, safe.
He was also human, and had a breaking point. It seemed this was it. His breaths are ragged as they break apart, and Pearl slips an inhaler into his hand. “Love you. So much. I promise I’ll call.”
A choked sound comes from Grian’s throat. He sat down on the bed, motioning her to sit by him.
“I don’t have to go right this second. I can leave later.”
Pearl recognizes the invitation. For the last time in a long time, she takes the opportunity to fall asleep in her brother’s arms. She knows when she wakes up, he’ll be long gone.
It’s not morning yet, though.