“Hey hey hey, listen to me.” John spoke, his hand rubbing over your head. — His eyes drilling into yours.

“I don’t care.” He spoke. “I don’t care how many people you’ve hurt, how many you have killed.”

You wanted to protest again, but he gripped your hair, holding your hair tighter.

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.” He spoke. — Sometimes he was the best brother that could ever exist…