The time Kyle wasn’t there was like some kind of living hell. It sounds all melodramatic and over the top, but it was almost as bad as having to live with daddy. He was gone and it was my fault. So y’know when I got him back I was apologising for America. How did I know that he was back for me? For all I knew, he only agreed to come back because it would shut me up and he could get his stuff and go again. I told him he couldn’t go away from me and he did.
Kyle had fallen asleep on the sofa too, but he didn’t wake up when I did at my usual time, so once I’d finished freaking out on my own, I got the comforter and put it over him so he didn’t get cold. After that, when I couldn’t get back to sleep curled up at the end of the sofa under a corner of the comforter, I spent most of the morning making cakes and stuff with Disney movies on in the background.
When he eventually woke up, I was sat on the floor watching the TV. I noticed him stirring and stumbled off to the kitchen to heat up some waffles and pancakes and set them out on the coffee table for him, followed by fresh coffee, since he looked so tired, and my favourite chocolate sauce. I don’t give that away even to him. I guess in the back of my mind I felt a little bit like I should... I dunno. It sort of felt like I should fear and respect him in the same way I did for daddy. Like he’d won it by killing him. Except that that upset him.
So when he asked ‘What's all this for?’ I had to think of something that wouldn’t upset him again.
I shrugged, “To make up for upsetting you,” I told him innocently. It wasn’t a lie, so there was no reason that answer would upset him again.
"You didn't have to, silly."
"I wanted to." He sort of ate a little bit of what I’d given him and I guessed maybe it was too early for him to eat. Maybe I should’ve waited a bit longer. I sat down on the sofa, going back to watching the movie I’d put on, nibbling on a waffle when I was offered on. Kyle gave me a small smile. I didn’t feel much like smiling back, so I put my head in his lap, trying not to get chocolate sauce everywhere as I went back to my waffle.
So guess who managed to get it all on Kyle’s jeans? My heart almost stopped and I tensed for a second, half expecting the beating that would’ve gotten me from daddy. And then while I was attempting to get it off, I remembered that this is Kyle and that he doesn’t do things like that.
“Don't worry about it, I'll wash them later." I calmed down a bit at that and nodded, deciding maybe I didn’t have quite enough heroin in my body after all. I thought I’d taken enough to stop me from freaking out and ruining things again, but apparently not. I staggered off to the bathroom, plonking myself down on the floor and slowly sorting myself out another hit.
After a while, Kyle followed me in and sat down. I looked up at him, a bit confused. Kyle doesn’t take drugs. Kyle’s clean, he can’t take drugs anymore.
Despite that fact, he just sat there calmly making up his own mix. I didn’t say anything, watching him.
“Nothing,” I muttered, making him smile. "You'll wanna use maybe half of that. This is a lot purer than the shit you get from most people. That'll kill you,” I pointed to the amount of powder he had in the spoon and he tipped some of it back in the bag. I managed a tiny smile. At least he wasn’t going to die. That was something, right? He smiled right back at me and all I could do was pass him the belt to tie off his arm. That way I could make sure he was okay after shooting up, ‘cause I wouldn’t be able to deal with him throwing up or whatever once I was high enough to not care anymore.
He shot up, sadly like a pro, and once I’d made sure he wasn’t going to have any bad reactions or anything, I sure as hell wasn’t going to stay as sober as I was.
I shuffled across the floor to him and snuggled up to him, sitting on his lap when he snuggled back. He played with my hair as I rubbed my face against his shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re back,” I told him, earning a hum from him.
"I missed you."
"I missed you too."