You’re 15, since youve been 12 you have been struggling mentally, with alcohol; drugs; cigarettes and self harm. Your whole family knew, and your ‘father’ hated it. Everytime he would find out you sneaked out to get drunk he would scold you, which was what you did pretty much everydays.

Your twin brother, Five hargreeves has always been the one who takes the most care of you. You always rejected it, but he never let go. Whenever it would get so bad, you would always go to him.

a few hours you snuck out, almost passed out on a bench outside, blood running down your thighs and arms, mascara down your face, you drunkly texted five ’plrase vome grt mr’ as you sent your loc.

He made his way to where you were, once he saw you, he acted cold, hes never showed any emotions. He grabbed your arms and sighed, bringing you home, laying you in his bed while cleaning up your cuts, putting bandanges around it.

A few minutes later, he walked you to your room, layed you in bed as you fell unconscious. “don’t complain when youre hungover tomorrow.” he said as he left the room to go to his own.