DIEGO'S POV.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hunter questions grabbing a cigar from the table. "You do know that this will trigger past memories, right?" Hunter lights the cigar, puffing out smoke seconds later.

"Yes, I know what I am doing." I state grabbing my bottled water, taking a sip from it. "And can you please put that shit away? I don't think Ms Rowland will appreciate having the smell of smoke, weed and all that shit that you have in there, around her; she might be asmatic or allergic to carbonated smells."

Hunter let's out a laugh when I finish speaking, taking a sip of my water when he ends up choking.

"Damn, dude. The smoke went in the wrong pipe," Hunter mumbles with tears in his eyes, placing the cigar in the ashtray.

"I told you to put it away; I have a smoke room for a reason. You can't just start smoking in here, and like I said, I don't think Ms Rowland will appreciate smoke in the air. She might beat your ass if she ends up smelling like tobacco."

Hunter rolls his eyes, his eyes staring right at me.

Ms Rowland left thirty minutes ago to get a file that she left at her parents house. And I remained with Hunter, who has been giving me crazy looks.

"Why are you even worried about her?" Hunter questions with a serious expression, which means business. "You are never this concerned about what people think, let alone a worker. I know that you haven't had action in a while, I don't think the policewomen were on duty when you came out of that place...."

"Your point?" I interrupt with irritation in my voice, knowing that Hunter will start talking about my private matters, forgetting what he was about to say.

"I was getting to that part, you should have let me finish," I chuckle, knowing that he is lying.

"So, yeah, like I was saying, Ms face ruiner is not going to be here for long; just a few weeks remaining for her to go back to her old life.... Diego, I know you, and I know that your third head is what is thinking for you. Do not do anything that will hurt you in the end, don't let that pretty face ruin you." Hunter's voice holds plead, something that is very rare with Hunter.

"I know, but...."

"No buts.... I am seriously tired of seeing you connected to different machines; you don't deserve that." Hunter's voice cracks with each word he utters.

My first thought is to protect him. I want to dry his tears. I want to tell him that everything is going to be alright. I want to comfort him.

But how can I do all those things, knowing that I am the cause of his tears.

"Hunter, you know that I hate seeing you like this... Vulnerable. You are among the feared in this city, yet you cry when you see my old ass with a few machines. Don't you worry though, maybe I might heal, or maybe something might happen. But don't beat yourself up just because of me; I don't deserve a brother like you and I still wonder why your damn ass is in contact with me. I would have run off if I was in your shoes, you don't deserve the mental stress I give you. You should be married, with kids and a wife; you shouldn't be here, babysitting me. I might die any day from now, and at any given moment, but best believe that life is full of bumpy rooms and closed doors. Sometimes I want to rest from this thing called life, but then I see how crazy you look with tears dripping down your eyes, and I end up wanting to laugh."

Hunter snorts when the words leave my mouth, his face showing nothing but annoyance

"You are a fool," Hunter growls folding his arms. "I am expressing myself and you are making fun of me; what kind of brother are you?" Hunter asks.

I chuckle when he makes one of his silly faces. I fail to believe that this is the same person that people run away from, he is the exact opposite of what people think about him.

"I am a good brother. I am your sexy brother. And best believe my sexiness makes me tell the truth." I reply with seriousness in my voice.

Hunter gives me a stern look, his eyes showing annoyance.

I look at him with a small smirk, knowing how irritated he gets when I do not take him serious.

But my face shows confusion moments later, surprised to see Hunter smiling.

"Have you started doing drugs, again?" I ask when his smile gets bigger.

"No, you fool. I am just happy to see you acting a bit like your old self. We ways used to laugh and joke about how silly I act, and you would always act like this. I am happy to see you acting like you."

The small smirk I had on slips from my lips, my face going back to being expressionless; the only way that I can help myself is not being myself.

"Did I say something wrong?" Hunter questions becoming alert.

I shake my head at him, standing up.

"I need to go to the bathroom. I will be back soon." I mumble, not waiting to hear his response.

My legs carry me out of the office and into the main hall, my feet carrying me in a direction I am too familiar with.

I walk past my room and into my art room. I sit on the white sofa that I put aside, wanting to find my peace.

But my thoughts go back to Hunter. I can not believe that I hurt him again. I never want to hurt my brother.

Hunter is the only family I have. He is the only one that stands by me and the only one that loves me for being me.

Hunter is the only one that has the strength to tolerate and love me, he is the only one that can tolerate my broken idiotic self.

I want to tell him what is bothering me. I want to confide in him. But how can I do that when I knowing that my answer will hurt him.

How can I tell my brother that my past is hurting me, giving me nightmares.

How can I tell my brother that I wake up in the middle of the night feeling suffocated.

How do I tell my brother that I force myself out of bed every single day.

How do I tell him that I hope of never waking up when I fall asleep.

How do I tell him that my situation is getting worse.

How do I tell him that my past is repeating itself, again.