you've got a friend.

“Ah…” Blair let out a bit of a sigh, his hand situating itself at the back of his head as he tried to come up with an excuse but he could manage none and let out a sigh. “I mean, my parents aren’t home and it’s my days off from the shop. I was taking advantage of it. As you can tell,” he added, with a short laugh of his own as she commented on the smell.

“I’m just…relaxing. If I’d known you were coming, I would have taken a shower.” Not that it would often change how he looked like shit to people but it would at leas tmake a bit of a difference for Emma–and given their relationship, Blair preferred to at least look moderately decent when he saw her. “How about you? Are you okay?” he leaned against the counter as he asked before straightening up and pointing towards the living room where he’d been smoking. “Shit, I should be a good host, do you want some?”

Emma gave him a little shrug, facial expression making it apparent that she didn’t really care what he looked like. He was only a human. Emma knew better than anyone how it felt when she was looking subpar. Truthfully, that was hardly ever but when she really decided to slum it, she looked like the first act of a romantic comedy. 

“I’m not judging you,” The girl reassured, tucking strands of hair behind her ear. “We all have our days.” And then, making her way over to the living room, she found a space for herself on the sofa. She was good at that, being a host for others in their own homes. On the other hand, she wanted to feel like a princess - who didn’t? Perhaps that was her spoiled upbringing. “I’d love a few hits.” 

Blair was definitely doing nothing legal as he spent the weekend home alone again while his parents were working out of town. It took him a moment longer than it should have to realize that someone had even knocked on the door. He set the glassware and lighter aside before making his way to the door, pausing by a window to blow the smoke out so it didn’t seep into his parents’ expensive carpet or whatever shit they’d complain about if they came home and smelled weed.

Opening the door carefully had gone out the door years ago. If someone came and wanted to deck him for what not and the other, they might as well be given an easy target. It didn’t sound if anyone angry was on the other side of the door though, which made Blair just a bit more confused. They seemed to sense the hesitation and realized it was Emma.

“Ah, shit,” Blair muttered, realizing he was two days into his two days off and was definitely wearing the same shirt and jeans he started with, was probably starting to have red eyes, and hadn’t brushed his hair in that time either. In a moment of panic, he first tried to turn the shirt around before realizing that seemed insane and just took it off and threw it as far out of sight as he could as if that was better.

Opening his door and running a hand through his hair attempting to control it, Blair smiled, “Hey Emma. I’d love some soup.”

Emma’s eyebrows raised upon seeing the boy for the first time. The girl was known for being a little bit direct with her comments on others - and it always came from a place of wanting to help and mother but that didn’t always mean it was the nicest thing to say. “I don’t wanna sound harsh,” She started, feet pensive on their positioning and body unsure of what posture to hold onto. “But you kind of look like shit.” The girl invited herself into the home - somewhere she had been what felt like countless times. 

“Oof, it smells dank in here.” A giggle escaped her lips as she made her way to the kitchen, setting the soup down on the counter. She took a moment, inhaling the sweet smell of maryjane. “So what’s up? Are you okay?”

Camilla had been up in her room, door closed, and scrolling mindlessly through her twitter feed when the sound of knocking could be overheard. Instead of jumping up from her spot she waited, hoping someone else would get up and get it, as she couldn’t be bothered to get up or much less deal with whatever was on the other side of the door. However, after several moments passed without anything happening she determined her parents were probably out.

With a sigh she pulled herself up from out of bed and made her way to the door to find out who was bothering her. As soon as she opened the door Camilla instantly recognized it to be Emma and all she could do was internally sigh, wondering what the hell she wanted now. If she had to answer one more question about where she was the night of Reese’s disappearance she was going to scream. 

Thankfully, luck seemed to be on her side. “Seriously, you’re out here passing out soup? What next, you gonna start knitting scarfs for dogs?” 

Camilla was never particularly fond of Emma but that didn’t mean Emma was going to give up on her so easily. I mean, she had Vincent as a brother so she was capable of putting up with a lot of shit before she actually hit her limit. After all, it had been eighteen years with him. What was adding another person to that list of stressors. It seemed the young girl never ran out of positivity, even if her efforts weren’t often looked over. “That’s a great idea, actually. I could totally do that. We should start a business and make little booties and hats too.” 

It would be a lie to say that the quiet wasn’t unnerving, which that in itself was a strange feeling because all he ever wanted was for everything to be quiet. But with Emma being around he had associated it with intrusive questions or mindless words that just played in his head as constant sound. Yet, despite the strange occurrence Vincent wasn’t about to complain and just let this play out for however long it did. So, he continued to stare ahead and take sips of his drinks just waiting for the silence to break because he knew better than to think it would last. 

“You know what we should do?” Emma broke the silence. It felt like an eternity to her. She didn’t have to speak, technically, but she could feel the monkey mind starting to scream at her. The voice inside of her that tore her apart at the seams. She tried her best to sew the pieces back but it was getting increasingly harder as she got older. Therapy was probably a good idea. “We should get really drunk and go to the park that we used to go to when we were little.”

Quite honestly, he wanted to leave, but he stayed pressed against the wall and sipped on the beer held in his hand trying to exist as if Emma wasn’t there. It was difficult to be around her in a way that it shouldn’t be, he cared about his sister, but every time she was around all he could think about was how much he was failing her. She deserved better than he was capable of being. He knew that he wasn’t easy to be around and that she felt like she needed to look after him. “Don’t be philosophical or whatever that is.” He muttered, staring ahead at the wall across from him, at the hole in his wall that he didn’t remember being there. 

Normally, Emma would joke around with Vincent - something that was repeatedly only funny to her. But she never tried being quiet around him. Unless she had her headphones in and was baking or following YouTube workout videos in the living room with her laptop connected through the HDMI cord. This time, she thought, I’ll just exist in the same space. Maybe that’ll make things easier. “Alright.” She responded calmly and almost sleepily. She had no idea what Vincent was even doing before she got in there but there were times when she wondered if all he ever did was just sit on his bed and stare at the wall. 

As Emma made herself at home on his bed he insensitively found himself moving over, almost pressed up against the wall his bed was pushed up against. For as long as he could remember he never liked people being in his space; could never get used to how easily Reese and his sister would just sit close or sling an arm over his shoulder. Maybe anyone else would say it was from the lack of affection he was given in his growing years but Vincent wasn’t one to over analyze his up bringing or get down to the cause of all his “quirks”. “Why do I find that hard to believe?” He asked rolling his eyes. 

He knew his sister only meant well, she always was. That’s just the kind of person she was which never failed to surprise him; how differently they both turned out. One fostering so much love and would do anything to help the people she cared about and well, one who was only capable of anger. Of ruining everything good in his life. “Every time you come here I feel like I’m about to be interrogated.”