Ken pov (still)

~flashback (he's abt 18)

I had finally done it.

I'd finally purchased the apartment.

George and I had been living here for about two weeks, and he was happier than I ever could have imagined he knew how to be.

He smiled all day long, walking around the place, being as loud as he wanted despite my pleas to be considerate to our neighbors.

He'd dropped glass yesterday, and had looked around frantically for someone to arrive to reprimand him, but soon realized that he didnt have to be afraid anymore.

I was happy that I had done it.

Astro, my beloved, had helped me to afford the down payment.

He was supposed to be here, living with us, away from the gang he was bound to, safe at last, but he was too scared to tell me.

He showed no signs of ever being willing to.

And it hurt me.

I knew that we kept secrets from each other, for the sake of the safety of our loved ones, but i hated that the people he was confined to made him afraid of even my knowing.

I knew, though.

The few nights I'd spent at his place, the bloodied sweatshirts piled under heaps of other dirty clothes haunted me.

I knew he didnt want this life, either.

I knew he would have loved nothing more than to live with me and George, but until he was out of the gang, he had to forget he knew about my brother's existence.

It hurt me.

George would sometimes ask me about a sandy-haired boy from sparse moments in his childhood, but I would always deny.

"You know I would never have let anyone see you, for your own safety."

"I've never known about anyone like that."

"What are you on about?"

It hurt me to deny a person I loved with my entire being, to pass off his existence as a farce.

I knew I would die for both of them.

I cared about them both beyond my own life.

I would sacrifice myself willingly for their mistakes if I had to.

I would give my own chance to live if it meant they would have a second chance at the life they wished for.

But right now, I was sitting on the counter in jeans and a sweatshirt, trying to teach George how to make spaghetti.

He was a terrible cook, and what with all the threats I was surrounded by, I needed to make sure he knew how to care for himself.

His burnt pancakes would send him following after me if ever I died.

"George," I say sternly despite the smile on my face. He looks at me innocently, trying to pick the steaming pot of pasta up with his bare hands.

"You have to use oven mits or you'll burn yourself." I say. He looks at me sheepishly, putting his hands in the mitts before continuing his actions.

I was playing calming Minecraft music from my phone, preparing myself for work.

Distracting myself from the fact that I'd see Astro soon.

I sigh wistfully.

Astro.

His name was so cool.

His smile was so nice.

But i couldnt think about that while I was at home.

It wouldn't be fair to George to be reminiscing a person he now thought to be only of imagination in the few hours I had each day with him.

And I knew George still needed me.

By Titan, did that boy still need me.

A house and safety would do nothing to erase the dependence he'd formed for me since he was born.

Nothing would get rid of that.

And it worried me sometimes.

"I'm done with the noodles; what do I do now, Ken?" he asked, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Firstly, you put the sauce in with the vegetables and meat. Second, you put the seasoning. Third, it's called pasta, dumbass." I ruffle his dark hair, smiling despite his protests.

"No need to be a cockblocker, dickhead, I was having fun." he mumbles, a smile in his voice.

"Yeah, I never should have taught you all those swear words." I say, hopping back onto the counter, preparing to scrutinize his every move, insulting every choice he made lightheartedly.

We had a good time, my brother and I.

Every evening before I went to work for the second time each day, he would cook something new, having me ask him questions about school, about his life.

I never tried to be a parent to him, I was always his brother, and I felt he appreciated that.

He didnt need another supposed father figure in his life.

He just needed someone to listen to him, to be there for him.

I would forever miss this as he grew up; being together in freedom with him.

I knew from experience that when he got to high school, his phone would become his closest companion, his friends his only confidante.

He would even find his own love.

And I'd only be there when he experienced everything around him crashing down.

The only times I'd be aloud in his personal life was when nothing seemed as magical as it had started out.

Until that moment, I was meant to observe from afar, not expected to interfere.

And so I would live in the moment, when I was his whole life, when this house was the only place he felt at home.

In a time when he needed me.

Because I knew more than probably anyone that sometimes the things you held dearly to were going to become sources of trauma.

I could only hope that my presence, my help, would never remind him of a place we'd both fought so hard to escape from.

I could only hope that he would continue to see me as his brother, rather that a source or remnant of a past that was already beginning to burden him.

I could only hope that my little brother would stay with me.

Just a sort of filler chapter to give a kind of inside view of what their free life was like before Ken died.

Luv you all!

I've writen two chapters so far today, I've got three more to go...

1037 words