Pretty Boy [bxb] | ✔️

Chapter nine: 24-hour café

24-𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙛é

I haven't had the chance to apologise to my mother for snapping at her since the anxiety attack happened during tutoring.

She's been entirely swamped at work and has hardly been home, so I've had no time. I didn't think doing it at the restaurant would have been an appropriate time or place, and afterwards I just felt too tired and confused about myself that I went straight to bed. I haven't texted her about it as I thought it would be best to do in person, so as she's home for a little while today before going back to work, I decide to go and say that I'm sorry.

The guilt has settled in, and I can't handle the feeling. My mum didn't do anything wrong. She asked if I had an attack, which mainly I did, and she was only showing she cares. I was rude. Unnecessarily.

I seem to snap at people when I don't mean to, and I'm trying to work on it. But when I'm anxious, and people keep bombarding me with questions about how I'm feeling and if I'm OK when I'm visibly not, I just feel so irritated, and I need to be alone, so I snap at them.

I know I sound almost as dickhead-like as Alex, but it's the truth. If I'm in the middle of a panic attack, I'm about to have one or just had one, then no, I'm not going to be OK. It's just frustrating when people ask, especially as I find it hard to speak in those moments. At least I'm admitting it as one of my flaws. Alex has the incapability of admitting any of his.

When I get home, Eva is the first person I see. She's carrying Isaak on her hip, something we're not allowed to do as we're trying to teach him to be less dependent when he's walking, eating, getting changed, et cetera, unless he needs the help. Eva likes to bend the rules a lot.

"You shouldn't be carrying him," I say as I take my jacket and bag off, then slip my shoes off.

Eva pouts, cuddling our little brother closer to her, "I know, but he's tired. Aren't you, bambino?" She says in a baby-like voice. I roll my eyes at her.

"Yesh. Sleepy." Isaak pouts, rubbing his eyes as if to prove his tiredness. I can tell he's only putting on the tired act so he can be carried around. I know for sure he's had a nap today. He's definitely smart for his age.

He's tried the act on us too much, we all know that it's fake and he's just too lazy to walk about on his own. He has got Eva wrapped around his little finger, though, so she quickly gives in to his demands. Weak, I call her. He's literally three. He can't do much when he's told no except throw a tantrum and whack you in the leg because he thinks it hurts.

"You should be able to tell that he's fooling you," I tell Eva, ruffling Issak's hair as a way of saying hello. It makes him laugh. Eva shrugs. "Is mum home yet?"