The Painting I Called 'You'

Ch-9: Gone

cw: mentions of suicide, self harm, childhood abuse and kidnapping

Kaiser

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While Theo was busy telling Astrella about another one of those deranged documentaries he watches, I snatched the golden envelope off the coffee table and bolted straight to my room lest I lose it in front of Theo and give him another reason to tease me.

At least I knew the invite was for me, given that my name was on it. I sit on my bed, staring at her cursive handwriting scrawled on the back of the red card. 'Be my date?'

I ran my thumb over the dried ink as a smile etched itself onto my lips involuntarily.

Be my date.

Date. Me.

Astrella asked me out for a date, to the opening of her new fucking collection. I might as well question if I was alive, at this point.

I doubted she left the invite her on purpose, but I was glad to have found it nonetheless.

A sharp crash pulls me out of my trance, I almost drop the damn invite. Carefully I place the card into the envelope and onto my bedside table. I assumed the sound came from Theo's room.

My temper flares when I think of him and his stupid ass, now I didn't even want to bother checking on him. So I ignore it.

And that failed miserably. With a low groan, I got off my bed and went over to Theo's room, I hadn't bothered to knock as I opened the door. He was hunched over his desk, holding something. Soft sniffles escaped him, my concern skyrocketed before I saw what he held.

A letter. Specifically, Malone's letter to him before he killed himself. There was a shattered glass by his feet, water pooling around it.

Theo still hadn't noticed my presence, and I didn't announce it either. I clench my fists in contemplation whether I was to approach him or not. I did technically punch him to the point of bruising just earlier today.

Theo never really experienced the typical stages of grief. Sometimes I even wondered if he experienced the initial denial of it.

The paper folded exactly where it was creased originally and Theo dropped his head in his arms, muffling his own sobs. Automatically, my hand shoots out to rub his back as he sobs.

I hated what we did sometimes.

Sure, revenge was our only closure, but the process? All of this? It made me wonder if it's worth it in the end. I couldn't count how many times I had cried over Kenzo's death, how many times I sat in a depressed state, mourning my dead brother, or the number of times Theo cried for his boyfriend.

Every murder I committed, every piece of information Theo collected for the pile, it was a constant reminder of their deaths. We could stop. But we didn't, because the anger, the vengeance, and the need to avenge their deaths overpowered the pain.

"Why him?" Theo's voice cracks when he speaks. He was asking a question no one had an answer to.

Theo looks up, teary eyed, and barely glances at me before his attention turns to the broken glass on the floor. I pull him off his chair harshly.

"Theodore." I say, warningly. I despised how he turned to self-harm when his emotions get the better of him. He slumps to the floor listlessly beside the glass. I snatch Malone's letter off the table and shove it into his hands.