Finally, he spoke. “Do you want me to stay here?” I shrugged. “Do you wanna stay here? It’s on you.” More sketching. Then, “My stuff already here and I don’t like to pack. I could stay, I guess.” He didn’t even look up, acted like he didn’t give a fuck one way or another. I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath until he spoke. “That’s cool,” I said, playing that shit off, too.
Love the tough brotherly love between the two
