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WRITTEN BY KRIS. 21+.
EST. NOV 26TH 2O13

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MY PLACE IS WITH MY BROTHER.

dilseachd:

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         Trembling hands pressed to a wooden, misted door as fingers
         tore in uniform lines upon its pale, unmarked surface. He should
         not, could not bother her, interrupt her. It was past midnight. She
         shouldn’t have to deal with this, he thought. It isn’t her problem.
         Her load. Isn’t her problem. It’s our problem. My problem. But
         here Chibs stood, a lonesome figure on an otherwise barren
         doorstep devoid of other individuals. His form was hunched,
         drawn and quivering just as much as flattened extremities were.
         His vision was blurred with what felt like acid, and he felt as if he
         couldn’t breathe. His chest, struggling against iron bars that were
         not there, swelled only to pause and hiccup before it all left him
         again. It was only after five long minutes which felt as if to be an
         eternity did his wearied body move, a fisted hand sliding across
         the door before it pounded once, twice, three times, and when no
         response came, his rough voice mustered the energy to produce
         a hoarse yell bordering a scream but not quite there, for it lacked
         heat and usual moxie.

            ❝——Alison !!

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  Sleep wasn’t something that came easily these days, it often
  evaded her somewhere between the m i n d l e s s worry and
  and sometimes debilitating anxiety that came with having an
  outlaw for a brother. But there were occasions –r a r e ones–
  in which she did manage to doze off; ( if only for a second. )
  Tonight however, her blissful slumber was cut short and she
  awoke; a g r o a n of frustration catching in her throat as she 
  rose from where she’d been nestled on the couch only moments
  ago. Lethargy was quickly replaced by concern upon realizing
  that her brother stood on the other side of her front door ——–
  possibly injured, she couldn’t see any other reason for such an
  untimely visit. And maybe that thought made her heart skitter a
  bit; made her uneasy. But she forced it back down, steadying
  herself before pulling the door open to face him. Whatever state
  he might be in. 
  ❝Y're gonnah wake th'dead wit’ yer yappin’.❞ It was a half
  -assed attempt at humor to disguise what she was truly feeling
   at the moment. Though she was quite relieved to find her brother
   in one piece it seemed his affliction was an emotional one and
   that in itself was a reason to worry given the fact that her brother
   usually kept those emotions in check, under lock and key.