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RP: Shame: Wanted [ Horror_Show & DarkofNight]

Brandon arrived home a little after rush hour had passed. This time he had legitimately been held up at the office. He'd been spending less of his evenings picking up women at bars or sleeping with prostitutes this week. His libido was suffering for it, causing him no end of constant distraction, but it seemed to make a meaningful difference to Millie as well. She'd been taking some initiative to do nice things for him, pressing his shirts, making lunches for him, small gestures. He hadn't had someone actually taking any effort to do nice things for him since his mother had died. Well, or Sandra, but that was better just not thought about.

The front door to the apartment was closed, but conspicuously not locked. He was relatively certain he'd emphasized the importance of locking the door to Millie. Brandon set his laptop bag and a stack of mail from the mailbox in the lobby on the kitchen counter as he passed into the apartment. He saw Millie in the living room, looking elsewhere.

"Hey sis" he called out in his practiced greeting. As he approached, he realized she looked somewhat paler than usual, there was something else off about her expression. He walked into the room and then realized why something seemed off. There was company in the room. Across from Millie sat Scarlet. As in "Just call me Scarlet", the college age call girl he'd slept with - how long ago was it? Two weeks ago?

"What the fu- I mean what are you doing here? How did you even find my address?" Brandon went through a mental list of how she could even have tracked him down. He felt his heart pounding suddenly as panic set in, his carefully insulated world was crashing around him and he had no idea how he had even slipped up to allow her to find him.
 
Millie had strangely decided to let the young red headed women come in, she seemed harmless enough. Millie already knew who she was from knowing about her older brothers alternate life. She offered her a beverage and let her have a seat. She wasn’t quite sure why she had done such a thing but when only minutes had passed and right on time, Brandon had actually came home. It seemed to have made the young female just as embarrassed as it caught Brandon off guard, by his reaction. At that moment, Millie looked a little pale, a little lost inside the moment. Then she could see the affect Brandon had on her, she was humble, obedient and very apologetic. Millie stayed silent watching it unfold, she almost wondered how Brandon was going to handle this. Maybe secretly she wanted this to happen, she wanted Brandon uncomfortable. Brandon seemed to snap questions of how she found him, he seemed a little infuriated and the young woman was intimidated, who wouldn’t be. She fumbled over her own words trying to give a reasonable explanation, the sex must have been that good. Millie sat quietly looking back and forth, until the young red head got up, almost in tears and was getting ready to leave. For some reason, Millie was sick and tired of everything, just like that, she snapped, hormones, moods, all of it just switched gears.

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Millie got up and had a confident vacant face, almost similar to Brandon, there was moments you could tell they were siblings. She could be just as hard headed. “No, you should stay….Brandon will calm down.” She looked to Brandon. “Your being a little impolite, is there something wrong with the fact she wanted to find you at your home? Or do you not fuck at home?” She said, her eyes wide and boing into his. The red head, her mouth dropped. Of course it did, she had no idea Millie knew anything, other than maybe they were dating. “I’m going to go get some coffee or some shit.” She said walking to grab her phone, keys and back pack. She should have been terrified, but she wasn’t. She stared heading toward the door, grabbing one crutch for extra support. Brandon had attempted to stop her and that made her even more angrier.

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“Don’t….fucking….touch….me.” She ordered glaring at him. Her voice, her eyes, he would feel her emotions, her pent up anger, guilt, would he know a lot of it was jealousy and confusion. That she had known some of his secrets, his addictions. She left, slamming the door. Soon as the door closed, fight or flight kicked in, she let the crutch drop and started jogging to get distance, as much distance as she could from Brandon. She ran passed the elevators and slammed through the exit doors to the stairs and starting jogging, using the railing to get to the first floor.
 
He bolted toward the door, taking three long strides before he recalled 'Scarlet' sitting in his living room. He should go after Millie, should stop her, should try to explain. But she was pissed, probably didn't want to listen. At the same time, Brandon was pissed. She had invaded his personal space. He'd protected himself with every conceivable wall and barrier to keep his baser drives from infringing on his life. And this naive little shit had stomped her way through and figuratively shat over everything. He rounded on her.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing here? You didn't think that maybe if I wanted to talk to you again, I'd have answered one of your half dozen emails?"

The conversation that followed was long and terse and Brandon was probably much less kind than he otherwise should have been. Anyone watching the outside of the apartment building would have seen an otherwise very attractive young redhead in tears running sobbing from the front door, followed by Brandon scowling and looking up and down both sides of the street. He pulled out his phone, hoping Millie hadn't gotten wise to the tracking app he'd placed in it and figured out how to disable it.

He pinged the location and started walking slowly down the street toward her. She hadn't gone far without the crutch, her ankle probably still hurt too much for any lengthy travel by foot.

The thought occurred to him though, why was she so angry at him? He was a human being, he had needs which were natural and normal. Was it that he was hiding getting those needs satisfied? Why had he been so concerned with hiding those needs from her in the first place? He caught up to her in short order, but his head was still spinning.
 
Millie had made it out of the apartment building and was doing her best to limp/pace down the block. She had a pretty good pace for not having two functional legs, though we could only hope she didn’t do any more damage. She would’t know that Brandon would have a short heated conversation with the young girl before she ran off crying, before he took off to approach her. While he contemplated why she was upset, her mind was a mess. She was covered in tears, eyes red, face flushed. She wasn’t halfway down the long city block before he caught up, a short jog from him would catch her in no time. She groaned out glaring at him, she kept pitifully and pathetically pacing, limping, ignoring him.

“Brandon….just leave me alone.” She got out, and finally stopped to catch her breath. He would easily see, she was already putting to much stress on her bad ankle, he would tell by her heavy breathing, posture and by how upset her face was. Funny how two young females was upset with him, though he seemed to make one a priority. Millie rubbed her nose, of snot and spit and shrugged it off wiping it on her pants. The city street was busy with the setting sun. She was going through a similar episode like the one where she almost killed herself running in the storm. Although this was triggered by an incident, and not on her own accord, although the first would have been triggered by him being gone, out sleeping with other women. She was upset because she didn’t understand why he did that, why he wouldn’t just commit to one woman and be happy, then there were these buries emotions, jealousy. She was becoming a little attached to Brandon and was attracted to him without consciously being aware.

“Fucking leave me alone.” She gritted, she was so pissed and upset.
 
"Just stop for a second." he grabbed her by the wrist, restraining her from moving any further forward. "You're going to make your ankle worse. You can be pissed at me at home."

His hold on her wrist turned her to face him. He saw her flushed face, eyes filled with tears and nose running. He wasn't sure how to react to that face, how he was supposed to feel. He put both arms around her, holding her tightly against him. She struggled against him but was injured, too small and too weak compared to Brandon to successfully push him away.

"Look, let me take you back. Whenever you're ready we can talk about everything." he offered, finally letting her go and giving her wrist another soft tug in the other direction.
 
Brandon was quick to grab her wrist and prevent her from moving any further. His comment that she could be pissed at home made her more furious but she tried to hide her tears, it was to late as he pulled her to face him. He had never had his own kids, never really grew up with Millie, but some sort of natural pull would make him put both arms around her small body to press her against. She struggled, she almost wanted to hit him but didn’t once her wet face was pressed against his shirt. She could smell his specific scent which was a minute of his soap and laundry detergent. He was a little taller so she came a little below his chest. He kept her in that pose, that hug for a long moment. They were both silent, and more silent hot tears flooded her face. She was positive this was first time he had ever hugged her like this. He kept his hand on her wrist, as if keeping control, not that if she tried to run he couldn’t catch her. She made a weird face as his suggestion of getting her home and they could talk when she wanted. She wasn’t even sure what to say. She followed his command and started walking by his side, her limp was worse.

It wasn’t long before without thinking, she was easily lifted once again bridal style as he continued making his way back to their home. She stayed quiet and kept her head pressed against his shoulder. Most people assumed that she was probably his daughter and not feeling good. She had her arm around his neck as his arms were underneath her legs. She wasn’t very heavy with his build. In less than fifteen minutes they made it back to his apartment and the sun had almost set. She was gently sat down on the couch as the apartment was locked with security turned back on. She sat on the couch using her sleeve to wipe her face off, at this point she didn’t care. She thought about trying to go to her room, that way she didn’t have to face him but somehow she figured at the moment that wasn’t going to happen either.
 
Brandon took several long moments to check locks and security around the apartment. Satisfied, he returned to the living room several minutes later.

"I suppose she told you everything then? I didn't want to tell you about it, you know? It's illegal for one. I didn't think this is the kind of thing siblings really need to tell each other about either." he stammered. "It's not like I'm hurting anyone. She's a nice girl working for herself, not like she's a victim of human trafficking. And I always wear condoms."

He stopped himself talking. His mouth twitched, words unspoken but only just. His teeth grazed his lower lip, gaze distant, then returning to her again. "Why does this bother you so much? I don't want to say you're overreacting, but you are awfully upset about this."
 
Millie stayed silent like a deer stuck in front of headlights. Brandon came in and started vomiting words related to his sexual addiction activity. He was very open, very sincere…going as far to tell her he used protection. As if he felt she any right to know. She just looked at him with beady red eyes. He seemed confused why she was so upset, it was his life and he kept or try to keep that aspect of his life out of the way of raising her. He wanted to know why it bothered her so much. She looked at him and then turned away, blinking away more tears. She couldn’t understand her own emotions, so how in the hell could she tell him.

“What you do with your life is none of my concern.” She choked out, “She didn’t tell me anything. She was very nice. I just knew….I saw your computer, how your hard drive is filthy and your emails. Your also gone all the time, so I know your out doing whatever it is you do.” Millie said. “…..don’t you want a girlfriend? Someone to be with, why not commit to one person if you want to be intimate.” She said looking back at him, confused with why he wanted to have sex with strangers.
 
Brandon scowled. "Don't act like you know me. Don't act like you think there's only one way to have a fulfilling life. You don't know the satisfaction of going from meeting someone in a bar to having your way with her just a couple hours later. God dammit, it's fun. And afterward we go our separate ways and there's no stupid fights over weekend plans, no fights about her weird family, no petty bickering and no messy breakups being left alone and hurt."

In a rage he'd vomited out a long strand of words that, as they hung in the air having just been spoken, he realized that he should have withheld. He stammered, scowling again. "Why the hell are you making this your business? Snooping on my computer, going through my emails? Huh? Don't you have anything better to do? No hobbies? Hell, go get a boyfriend and you can start getting some yourself, be less up tight with me."
 
Millie was attacked by his words and once again he may have opened up to much and that made him more pissed, but he was vicious with his come backs. She looked at him with glistening eyes, her body slightly shaking and she jerked her head down. He had some serious fucking problems, that was evident. Of course he did, there mom wasn’t the greatest and they both did what they could to survive. Her mind would need more time to comprehend, he had been hurt and it had wounded him deeply. For now she was to preoccupied by the current emotions of rage, regret, guilt and jealousy. Then he snapped for her to go to almost the same thing he was doing, she was a virgin and still so at twenty. She had experimented some with a close best friend, a female in her younger teenage years but she steered cleared of most boys. She was pretty but she did what she could do avoid being noticed. His words stung.

“I’m sorry for going through your computer. I was out of line doing that….” She forced out, glaring at the ground. “Its your life Brandon.” She pushed up on the couch, limping. “I can start looking for a full time job and I can try to get out of your apartment. You didn’t have to take me in.” She was using the walls to try to get back to her room. “Just give me a few months or less and I will be gone.” She wanted to scream so many crude responses but decided it would only infuriate him more. She got to her room and shut the door. She hopped over to her bed and crawled in it, she buried her face in the covers and silently just let out her emotions. He was her only family and already she had discovered he too was fucked up ad she probably needed to somehow figure out how to be on her own. Of course she was being over dramatic, she wasn’t thinking clearly, he hadn’t said anything about kicking her out and she was still young. If she didn’t get through school or find a decent job she would live a shit life and he knew that. She already had sacrificed living a normal healthy life.
 
Brandon watched her slow, pained retreat to her room glaring at her. He was still on the defensive, still angry about the invasions of his privacy from multiple angles now. He fumed silently after her door closed but ultimately had very little to do himself, and wound up turning in to sleep early. He awoke early the next morning, dressing to hit the gym before work, which helped to clear his head some.

The rest of the day passed quickly. He received another email from 'Scarlet', this one calling him all manner of unkind names instead of trying to make small talk and arrange another get together. Like the previous emails, he ignored this one entirely. He had no idea what he would say to Millie when he returned home that night. He'd been out of line, without question. Tempers had flared on both sides. He should probably apologize. It's not like he was in a rush to get her out of his house, he just wanted to be able to slake his desires without stress or judgement.
 
Millie once again fell asleep from exhaustion, she had fallen asleep from forward with her face turned enough to the side to let her breathe. She would wake up hours later in the morning to drool being all over her pillow. She rose up looking around and saw it was almost noon. She collapsed back down flipping her pillow over not even caring it was drooled on. She knew Brandon was probably already gone at work and then god knows what else after work. Honestly she was so upset she didn’t care what he fucking did. She ended up falling back asleep and waking up around three or four in the afternoon. She got a quick shower and got some lunch which consisted of fruit, water and a yogurt. She had liked living in a place that was safe, clean and it was nice having new clothing, electronics….but she had said she would provide for herself and move out. He had his own life. She couldn’t be apart of it.

She ended up sitting at the kitchen table while eating fruit looking through her phone. She found a picture of them at the mall, she had bribed him into letting her take a few selfies to post. So she could brag about some of her life and living with him and he agreed. He looked happy, almost like he could have been her father. She already this weird complex where she almost wished her was her father. Then it was starting to dawn on her that she thought her older brother was attractive. She started flipping through her cell phone pictures and almost all of them were saved ones of him or ones she had taken of him while they were out. Maybe it was because she hadn’t lived with him so he was like a stranger? Now she had to deal with the fact he was sex addict. One fucked up family, he’s a sex addict and I’m in love with him….she thought sarcastically. On that small sarcastic thought she froze, she had specifically thought of the word love instead of just attraction and that’s when it sunk in. She wasn’t just attracted to Brandon, she was falling in love with him and she was jealous….thats why she had hurt herself the night she ran in the stadium or ran out on him when the other young lady had visited. Maybe she needed therapy? She had been through a lot, hell he needed therapy. She doubted that was happening.

She decided to stay in her room. She was a little confused and depressed so her room seemed to be a good place to isolate herself, she read and used some of her art materials to sketch while listening to music.
 
Brandon swallowed hard and opened the door, the apartment blanketed in silence.

"Millie? Are you home?" he called out as he closed the door and walked toward the kitchen. He knew she was, tracking on her phone hadn't been disabled. Still, better to act naive and uninformed than tip his hand when she was already mad at him. He sat his laptop bag on the kitchen counter and withdrew a small stack of brochures and class schedules. Maybe she would see something in one of them that sounded better than a crappy job waiting tables in the city, and he could convince her to stay for a while long enough to get an education and a better job. It was a slim hope, but it was something. Maybe if he could convince her to hang around, they'd find some kind of comfortable medium, he would scratch his itch when it suited him, she'd look the other way, they'd be able to have a normal family life at home. He regretted telling her she should get a boyfriend so she could get laid herself. She'd done well to get out of that trailer park without getting knocked up, he didn't want some slick asshole from the city trying and succeeding where so much white trash had undoubtedly tried and failed.

He pulled up his phone and placed an order for chinese takeout, realizing he wasn't sure exactly what she liked, he ordered a handful of different things, hoping at least one of them would be to her liking. He paid with a credit card and noted it would be delivered in about 20 minutes. Then he set off down the hall, knocking on her door softly and opening it, seeing her seated at her desk, turned away from the door with her earbuds in place. He walked in, tapping her softly on the shoulder.

"Hey sis. Can we talk about what happened last night? I feel bad about everything."
 
Millie was tuned out from the world in a more creative state as she worked on sketching out art. She jumped a little when she felt Brandon lightly tap on her shoulder. She quickly pulled her headphones off, the music could be hurt glaring as they rested on her shoulders. She looked surprised to see Brandon. Her eyes caught the time on her iPhone, he was home earlier than usual. He must have decided to not go out to be a predator among women that night. She blankly stared at him, he was still in his tailored work clothing. His buttoned up shirt was unbuttoned a little revealing a t-shirt and untucked, his sleeves rolled up. He must have been home for a little bit. She heard his words but didn’t respond. She seemed a bit confused with his presence. She had colorful ink on her forearms and fingers from working on her art. He would see even from her art she would damn be capable of going to an art school. How many talents did she have that went unnoticed in the slum of a traitor park. Just as she showered interest in being athletic with no prior knowledge, she had so many opportunities to grow and be successful. She needed to heal, to get an education and be in a nourishing environment. Hell he could afford to pay for her to live alone but he wanted her around.

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She shrugged and leaned crouched over the chair, making a face. “Lets not talk about that. Its your life Brandon, its not mine. I said I could be out of here. I’ll start looking for work next week. I just need to get my bearings together.” She mumbled unenthusiastic. Her tone, her voice, even her body posture would let him know she was disappointed, depressed maybe? She got up from her desk chair turning off her music. She mindlessly slid her phone to unlock, Brandon would get a quick glimpse of her open applications and he would see a picture of him, saved on her camera roll along with others. She had pictures saved of him, one to many probably. She limped a little, her ankle hadn’t completely healed because of the set back from last night.
 
"What would it take for you to stay?" the words tumbled from his lips before he'd even given a thought to the ramifications of them or what she might ask. He might have to give up whoring around, one night stands... surely not but possibly even the pornography? He didn't want her gone and in his singular reactionary moment he may have offered more than he was actually comfortable with. These thoughts raced through his mind one after the other, expanding to fill the silence between them, until his body reminded him that breathing was necessary and he drew in a hasty breath.

"I can't make you or anything. But I know you've got a high school diploma and not a lot of meaningful work experience. By the time you get a job and an apartment, you'll be spending everything you earn on rent and utilities and just as bad off as you were with Marvin in that shithole trailer park. Like it or not, we're the only family we have left. Let me help you. Stay here, at least until you get through college and can afford a place on your own." He forced himself to make eye contact with her through all of this, over the brief couple of weeks they'd stayed together he had come to care for her quite a bit. He wasn't sure what he'd do with himself if he started coming back to an empty apartment. That realization frightened him.

"If it's already gone too far, I guess I have to live with that. I really didn't mean to hurt you though."
 
Millie was standing by her bed when he had asked what it would take for her to stay and she gawked at him. You would of almost thought she was repulsed by such a question when in fact she wasn’t expecting it. She had never had anyone care for her to risk that much. She could of snapped out she wasn’t comfortable with his sexual addictions but he already knew that, she could have demanded he stop sleeping with strange women but that wasn’t her place, she didn’t think pleading with him to go to therapy would do anything. She leaned on her good foot while looking at the ground. She hadn’t said anything as he continued, wanting her to stay and finish college. That alone could be anywhere from two to six years and he knew that. Millie sat on the edge of her bed with a weird placid face, as if she knew it was inevitable to really leave and live decently. She liked living a safe life, she honestly liked the luxury she was never given, the healthy food choices, the choice to eat out, to have nice name brand clothing and a comfortable room.

“I was really upset last night. I apologize for invading your privacy. Like I said its your life. I have no say whatever so in that.” She said, looking anywhere but at him as her feet dangled. “I don’t want to leave….I just don’t want to crowd you or your life you’ve chosen. You’ve already done so much.” She said. That was when they both heard knocking at the door.

He would quietly dismiss himself and she would push off the bed and limp out to see him getting Chinese carry out, she could smell it and her eyes lit up. She had come to have quite an appetite and was already ecstatic he had ordered food. She had already made it to the kitchen by the time he returned to place all the carry out bags on the table.
 
Brandon opened the cartons and laid them out in the middle of the table, motioning for her to help herself. The meal raised both their spirits, as did the knowledge that neither of them wanted her to move out.

The next week was pleasant, Brandon was home on time for most of the first part of the week, staying late to work Thursday night, then disappearing to run errands for a few hours alone on Saturday. Of course, he wasn't actually working, or running errands. He was simply giving her a convenient excuse as she'd not mentioned his proclivities since. The few days of relative abstinence had left him craving, hard. The next week his late nights at work got more frequent. He finally broke one of his own rules, contacting Scarlet and apologizing for himself. In short order, they'd made an arrangement for her to satisfy his needs a few times a week, and she was never to contact him at his apartment or while he was home.

He didn't know how many other clients Scarlet had, and didn't actually care. She did seem to enjoy their brief rendezvous though, treating him like a girlfriend or a mistress, though who could tell if this was just professional courtesy. In fairly short order, she had fixed him a cocktail, sat him down, removed her top, undid his pants, and was enthusiastically sucking him off when a very particular alert sounded on his phone.
 
Millie had been doing remarkably well. She seemed happy, content and energetic. She kept her busy throughout the week with doing mindless chores, looking at different colleges and career paths. She indulged in doing basic things she had ever thought of before including yoga which had helped her ankle. Things seemed normal, her and Brandon were a family and all her needs were taken care of. Then night after night he stayed gone later and later, at first given pathetic excuses but she played along. It wasn’t her business. Then the following week it was almost every day and she had just simply tried to ignore it. It should have been easy. It was his addiction, his own demons he had to deal with and like every addict he had away of curving the craving. In the silence of her own company she was left to think if what such addiction could give him, was it really the psychical release? Was it something more internal? Why didn’t he try to date normally or have a girlfriend? Had he ever had anybody and if so what had happened with her.

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One night the thoughts had put her in a very emotional state. She was pitifully lying in her bed, it was storming outside ironically. She was teary eyed, feeling empty, there was this void inside and she pulled the pillow into her face. On her phone would be the camera roll with the pictures she had saved of Brandon. The urge to be energetic, to push herself so she didn’t hurt came to mind but she couldn’t risk going jogging in the rain again. So instead she searched the apartment, not exactly knowing what she was looking for. It wasn’t until she started going through Brandon’s room that she found a bottle of Jack Daniels hidden in his closet, not much of it had been touched….his addiction wasn’t in a bottle. It almost brought flash backs of Marvin, even though he drank cheap beer. Millie took the bottle turning off his bedroom light and opened the bottle and started taking large gulps, of course she had to pace her self as it was hard, burning down the throat. It didn’t take long for the alcohol to start to intoxicate here. An hour or so had passed and she had downed half the bottle.

She clumsily made her way through the apartment and found the bathroom. She sat the half empty bottle on the sink and ran cold water down the facet. She splashed water all over her face, getting it all over her striped tank. She found herself between laughing and crying. She sat on the toilet while crying. She had been holding her iphone in one hand. She brought up Brandon in her text messages and with tears and weird spiteful smirk started typing. He could be able to tell by her texting something was wrong, definitely wrong.

11:36 PM: I can’t fucking do this anymore. Everyone I had ever fucking known has some bullshit addiction affecting their lives. Why…..would you fuck me if I wasn’t your sister?

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She laughed out while writing it, not realizing what she was actually doing. She decided to take a selfi making a smug face. He would see her face was flushed red, her eyes dilated, her eyes bloodshot and her hair was wet. He would know something was wrong. She sent the selfie laughing. She dropped the phone and ended up crawling into the bathtub.




https://youtu.be/czbbCEesp_o​
 
Brandon reached down and fished his phone our of his pants pocket. The picture of Millie shocked him, she looked like death warmed over. She talked of addiction, which grated on him, bit he wasn't sure whether the juxtaposition of the picture and her question was meant as a joke or something serious. The face and "I can't do this anymore" made him think she was about to try something rash. "I'll be home in a few minutes" was his only response.

"I need you to stop" he told Scarlet. It took some explaining of course, and Brandon still paid even though she was clearly conflicted about taking it. He straightened his clothes and rushed downstairs to his car.

Millie was nowhere to be found. Not in the living room, kitchen, or her room. Then he noted that the picture was taken inside the bathroom and went to check there.
 
Millie wouldn’t even be focused on his return text message as her phone would be on the bathroom floor. She stayed curled in the bathtub, with silent tears trickling down her flushed face. She hadn’t done anything foolish or dangerous except consume a large of amount of strong alcohol. He would be nearing his apartment when the sickness from the hard whiskey would kick in. She was able to pull herself forward still being on her knee’s in the bathtub, while leaning over to vomit into the toilet. She was starting to sweat from getting sick. She spit and stayed over the toilet, barely having the strength to hold herself up. She was having more emotional breaks more than she ever had in her difficult life. She always stayed solid and together while living with her father. Maybe that’s because she knew she had too. In her state of mind she was thinking maybe she really needed to move out and make distance from Brandon. She was to attached and his life style choices were affecting her internally. She would’t hear the door and security panel being turned off as she continued getting sick.
 
Brandon was worried about her presence in the bathroom. She was acting irrationally, had she... had she hurt herself? He wasn't sure what to expect when he pushed his way through the door, but the smell and sounds of vomit, while making him wretch a little himself, were also somewhat of a relief. He reached down, gathering her hair out of the way and rubbing her back.

"Get it all out. It doesn't feel that way, but it will be better afterward."

He waited until she finished being sick, repressing his own gagging from the smell and the sounds. Before she could speak, he stood.

"Why don't you brush your teeth and splash some water on your face, we can talk when you've got yourself collected."
 
Millie was throwing most of the alcohol back up into the toilet as Brandon made his way into the bathroom. Luckily she was making good aim and hadn’t made a mess. She was a hot mess but that was about it. He held her hair back and she took deep inhales and listened to him suggest she brush her teeth, splash water and talk to him. She eyed him with bloodshot teary eyes and and breathed out slumping over. She flushed the toilet which quickly got rid of the retched smell of her vomit. Her stomach still felt pretty queasy. She slumped into the side of the bathtub eyeing him. Of course he came home after she texted him but she was upset with so many emotions she didn’t even know where to begin. She finally pulled the toilet seat down and used the seat and the side of the tub to try to climb to her feet. She felt Brandon easily help her and she let him. She stumbled over to the sink and ran cold water. She grabbed the mouth wash and screwed off the top taking a huge swish and letting it gargle around her mouth, after a few she spit it out wiping her mouth and splashed some water on her face.

“Sorry to have interrupted your fuck session.” She snapped. “You could of simply just ignored by drunk texting.” She said and limped out of the bathroom back into the living room where she collapsed on the couch. She ran a hand through her sweaty semi wet hair and leaned back against the couch. “I think I need to move out….I can’t do whatever THIS is anymore.” She said, not exactly being clear but obviously it has something to do with his addictions and her own emotions. She rubbed her neck pulling her knee’s to her chest on the couch, she did her best not to give him eye contact. She could already smell some others females scent on him and it was sickening and she was lucky to not have gotten sick right the and there again.
 
"Well excuse me for caring more about your well-being than getting my dick sucked on." Brandon snapped. He hadn't meant to be this harsh with her, but there it was. "Look, I already told you I want you to stay. If minding your own business is that much trouble, then I guess you've got to do what you've got to do. Before you do that though, you want to tell me what the hell you were thinking downing that entire fifth of jack? You're acting like Marvin, drinking your ass of to the point of being a sloppy disgrace. Is that what you want? To think I rushed home because you were upset and I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself...." his words trailed, too tired to continue his own indignation.
 
Mille sat on the couch in a pitiful stance as Brandon snapped that she was obviously more important than getting sucked off but apparently that wasn’t enough. Then he told her once again he wanted her to stay but was very upset she had downed the whiskey, comparing her to Marvin. Silent tears formed as she sat on the couch holding her legs to her chest. She looked up at Brandon knowing he wanted some sort of explanation for why she was so foolishly drinking a dangerous amount of alcohol. She sniffled and looked elsewhere, not speaking. He rushed home because he thought she might be capable of self harm which made sense giving her situation and past. Then after a prolonged moment of silence she spoke, but without facing him.

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“You’ve given me more than anybody ever has. I should be grateful and respect your life choices…..but the moment you decided to take me in, you took on the responsibility of all of this. Brandon,” She said trying to hold back from breaking down, “I don’t want you fucking strangers to get off.” Her words may have not made to much sense but she kept rambling. “Do you find me attractive?” She finally looked up at him with beady curious tearful eyes. Would he realize she was having difficulties with their relationship, with her emotions. “I find you breathtakingly attractive…..its easy for you to prey on women because of that. Any women would let you lay them.” She finished.

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“Brandon I love you…..commit to me.” She said with a shaky breath. Would he even begin to understand what she was asking.
 
Breathtakingly attractive... Commit to me... Did Millie understand what she was saying?

"Millie... You're... Really drunk. Maybe you should go to bed, sleep this off, and we'll talk more in the morning or something?" He was fairly certain she wasn't sure what the hell she was suggesting. Then again, maybe she was. "I think you're confused. Things haven't been this easy for you in a very long time. You're misplacing your relief and the relative comfort from not being stuck going nowhere with Marvin as some kind of... attachment. Maybe a good night's sleep would help you sort things out."

He had trouble keeping eye contact with Millie. The question of whether or not he found her attractive went unanswered. He was terrified of answering that question for himself, though he knew for a fact the answer. There was a reason he'd been seeking out Scarlet lately. She was Millie's age, short like Millie, and unlike Millie, he could fuck her senseless and not feel anything other than relief.

His eyes finally met hers. Hers, welled up with tears, vulnerable, broken. It reached into his chest, grabbed his heart and wrenched it hard. "Fuck Millie, just please stop crying."
 
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