Benito shook his head. “I got nothing, man. I fucking can’t.”
He closed his eyes. Mickey made room for Gianna, then claimed his place on the floor. “I’m staying. We all are.”
The paramedic nodded and left. Rosetta locked the front door and came to the bathroom door. “Gianna, it’s time for bed now.”
Gianna pressed herself tighter to Benito’s side. “But it’s morning already.”
“Exactly. You need to get some sleep.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Benito opened his eyes. “Go and get in my bed. I changed the sheets yesterday, so they don’t smell of boys.”
“I’m not getting in your bed, Beni. You are.”
“I’m fine right here, G.”
“Fuck off.”
“Don’t swear,” Benito said.
“Gianna,” Rosetta snapped at the same time.
Mickey laughed. “Wow. Okay. You have a couch, right? And I can go and find an airbed from somewhere. No one needs to be telling each other to fuck off right now.”
Gianna sat up and folded her slender arms. “I’m not getting in Benito’s bed.”
“Neither am I,” Rosetta said. “We’ll be fine on the couch, so no one needs to go anywhere that isn’t in this flat. Gianna, comeon. The longer you take, the longer your brother will stay on the bathroom floor.”
Rosetta held out her hand. After a gentle push from Benito, Gianna took it and allowed herself to be towed from the bathroom.
The living room door shut a moment later, gifting Mickey a split second of peace before reality consumed him. Before he looked at Benito again and saw him broken on the floor.
“Hey.” Benito’s hand twitched weakly in Mickey’s. “You don’t have to be here.”
Mickey tore his gaze from the empty hallway and lost himself in Benito’s tired brown eyes. “I do, actually, because I’d rather die than be anywhere else.”
“I don’t deserve that. I hurt you.”
“I know.” Mickey couldn’t deny it. “But we’re more than what we do. At least, I hope so, or I’m not worth shit.”
Benito snorted. “You’re worth everything. I love you too... You know that, right?”
“You don’t need to say that.”
“It’s true.”
Mickey stood and filled the glass by Benito’s sink with water. He crouched down again and held it to Benito’s mouth so he could drink. “Can I ask you something?”
Benito nodded, licking his dry lips.
“Have you eaten anything since the shitty pizza I fed you on Saturday?”
“What?”
“Your blood sugar was really low. And Rosetta said you didn’t eat dinner.”
“Oh. Fuck. I don’t know. Maybe not... it’s been hectic, man. I—” Benito stopped and shook his head. “You probably don’t want to know.”