My bag feels like boulders as I struggle to drag it up the steps. I hate to admit Carson was right.

My room is the same as I remember. Bland white walls, random band posters that I have no interest in anymore, and those awful figurines I used to collect. Despite living in the same town I haven’t stepped foot inside this house in years. The only reason I’m here now is because my sister took whatever little pity she could muster on me.

I hear the floor creak behind me while I start to put clothes into my dingy closet. “You know if you’re thinking of scaring someone, you outta get better at it.” When I turn around Carson is standing a little too close for comfort, bowl of ice cream in one hand, hangers in the other.

“Thanks.” He gives me a big smile. “No problem.” I swear his smiling face gets weirder and weirder each time I see it. Carson roams around my room looking at the old band posters. “Do you even listen to these anymore?”

“Nope.” One of the hangers break, cutting my thumb in the process. “Fuck. Hey Carse, do you know where the bandaids are?” Carson wastes no time rushing to my side.

“That looks pretty nasty.” He grabs one of my shirts from the floor to wrap around. “Hold on a second, I’ll see what she has in the bathroom.” He ruffles my hair then quickly exists the room.

Just my luck. I shuffle my way over to the bed waiting for him to come back. Not even a second later he appears with antiseptic ointment and a bandage. “Looks like you struck gold.”

“Sure did, her cabinets are bare.” He seems oddly calm, usually blood freaks him out. “Ah yes classic Lina, never been sick a day in her life.”

“She has the genes of a goddess.” Carson unwraps the shirt and starts putting on the ointment. The stinging sensation is worse than the initial cut. “Jesus Carse, ow.”

“Sorry, I’m trying not to hurt you.” I give him a gentle kick to the knee. “Well try harder.” Once the bandaids on he lifts my hand up to his face and places a kiss on the top of my knuckle. “All better?”

“No, worse actually.” I yank my hand away and give him a strong glare which in turn causes him his weird grin to come back. “God you’re so creepy sometimes.” Without a thought, I take the pillow beside me and shove it right in his face.

He starts howling in laughter. “What’s so funny? My pure and utter distain for you?” He removes the pillow from his face revealing his less creepy wide spread smile. “No, it’s just, I missed your harsh personality too.” Harsh personality?

“I take it back I didn’t miss you, actually I was having fun without you.” His laughter grows to a close and his smile drops to a frown. “Aw come on you don’t mean that.” He looks so sad I almost want to tell him I didn’t really mean it.

“Is it good?” Carson quirks an eyebrow. “Huh?” 

“Your ice cream, is it good?” I point down to the the bowl he left on my nightstand. “Oh, hell yeah it’s good, do you want a taste?” I nod.

He hands me the bowl. The second the flavor hits my mouth I immediately want to end my suffering. “This shit is nasty.”

“You’re just mad I have superior taste.”

“As if.” My tongue hangs out in disgust. “Oh come on it’s not that bad Mazz.” My eyes squint at him. “What’s this? Am I going blind?”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“No really Carse, I can’t see you, the room is so dark.” My arms swing out at the air in search for him. “Alright alright I get it, you have poor taste. It’s ok just say you are a basic bitch.” Did he just..?

“Basic bitch???? Me???? How could you!” This time, I really try hurting him with the pillow. It seems to be working seeing as he’s fighting back in protest, of course I’m winning though.

After a few hard hits he manages to rip the pillow away from me. I retreat further across the bed in defense but he pulls me back by my ankles. “Hey you asshole-“ I’m immediately smacked in the face by the pillow. “Ok enough-“ he smacks me again, this time not as hard as the first.

He smacks me a third time and a bit of cotton fills my mouth. “Bleh”. Carson flops down beside me. “I’m not a basic bitch.”

“Mmm you are, but you’re my basic bitch.” I roll my eyes at him.

“This room doesn’t feel like you anymore.” He’s right, I’m completely different from how I used to be, all of these figurines are making me cringe more than the cheesy posters.

“I’m going to tear all of this crap down. Maybe put up some fake leaves or something. You know, hanging flower garlands an stuff.”

“Now that sounds like you.” He adjusts the pillow beneath his head trying to find a comfortable position. “What exactly happened at your parents? You seemed a little shook up when I mentioned them earlier.”

I lean back, feeling the fluffy sheets cater to my aching spine. “The usual, they belittle me and gaslight me anytime I try to bring up something they did.”

“They’ve never taken responsibility for anything have they.” I shake my head. “Nope. I’m used to it though. I don’t know what I expected. It wasn’t any different last time, why would it be any different this time.”

My eyes close as I take in the warm fluffy feeling of the sheets. “You shouldn’t have to be used to that.”

“Yeah well..”

I feel Carson’s pinkie intertwine with mine. His hand is warm too. Warmer than the sheets. He reminds me of a floor heater sometimes.

“You know I got you, right?”

“I know.”

He’s always had me.