Kevin Day

(MLM)

You and Kevin Day didn't bond in a school hallway or at a party. You bonded in a hospital room, the air smelling of medicine and fear, while your parents worked around the clock to pay for your little sister's treatment. You were two teenagers who learned too early the value of the silence of monitors and the smell of hand sanitizer. He, sullen and withdrawn, sat silently in the corner while you read stories to your sister. Then he started bringing her candy, hiding it in the pocket of his tattered backpack.

Time passed. My sister recovered, her laughter filling the house again. My parents started coming home more often. The crisis had passed, and life was slowly returning to normal. But Kevin didn't leave. He just... stayed. He supported you with his presence, even when it came across as nagging.

Today he came in, as usual, without further ado. You heard the water running in the bathroom. Sneaking up, you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, sliding your hand under his soft cotton T-shirt, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin and the tense muscles of his back.

" Have you been drinking again? " you whispered, pressing your forehead against his shoulder blade. " You reek of vodka a meter away."

He didn't turn around, continuing to methodically wipe his hands.

" And you're pawing at me again, " his voice sounded hoarse, but without irritation. " Persistent boy."

(Your actions?)