#wrightism

‘ do you think there’s something wrong with me ? like , really wrong ? ’

“ no, of cou – ” she was too quick to respond, quick to deny the very idea of something being wrong with him. but maybe he’s right. maybe there was something with him, something wrong with this whole family. it seemed that whatever illness that plagued their family all those years ago is just right back at it. but does julian really need to hear that from her? right now? no. her voice grew softer, “ of course not, julian. i mean, i can name like fifty things wrong with you but like. none of where its really wrong. ”

Astrid wrapped her arm through her older brothers, resting her head against him. “You’ll never have to.” Nothing about being back to hell house had been easy, but Astrid had always been good at hiding. Hiding how she felt — the fear, the loneliness, the sadness. But she couldn’t do that for Julian, couldn’t take away the bad memories that seeped back in like poison. “Jules, that home is nothing but cobwebs and sawdust. It’s not home, never was. Home is us, it’s Nicky and Luna in there —even Laila. We just go in, give her our decision and leave if you want to. Whatever you choose, you’ve got me and a shit ton of bourbon if all goes to hell.”