Never (definitely a working title)
an excerpt

Um... Author's note: I know this is crap... grammar and typos all over the place... bear w/ me... I'll take it down tomorow...

If he’d had a gun in the house, Claude would have done it long ago. Now that he did, he was having trouble bringing himself to it.

But here he was, standing dramatically in the kitchen with the heavy black thing in one hand, his other covering the top as if to stop himself from doing anything. His finger wasn’t even on the trigger.

At thirty-five, living in a small, but neat apartment with no partner in central Aberdeen, Claude Davenport was the epitomy of average. His mother and father had passed away quite a while ago, and if he was truthful with himself, he really didn’t care. So that left only him and his sister, who, and he had no idea why, stilled lived close by. He was hoping that she would move away after some time; Family was cloying. But here he was, still in Aberdeen and getting bored.

His job at the local newspaper was nothing in particular to be proud of, and neither was his lack of a romantic partner. When he was younger, perhaps he was more frivolous with the female sex, but that had gotten boring too. Day after day, he found himself trekking the streets to Starbucks, then into work, then to his office, then home, was getting dull. Was there any point in living anymore?

But he couldn’t bring himself to even put his finger on the trigger. A nice suicidal he was. What was even worse: he’d invited his sister to his house that day. Wonderful. Kill himself and break her heart, deliberate and let her find him with a gun in his hands in the kitchen, go put it away and be even more of a ‘sissy’. He scowled; life was tough. Death definitely sounded a whole lot better.

But if he was going to do anything, he should do it before she got there. To add to his shame, he looked down at his watch. He had about five minutes to kill himself.

But then he heard the door begin to open. What was he thinking when he agreed to let her have a copy of his key. “Shit,” he said, his hand beginning to tremble. He could have sworn he was white as a ghost when she walked it.

“Claude! You fucking idiot!” she yelled the moment she stepped in. Her bags were on the floor and the gun was halfway across the room before he could blink. “Everytime I come over here! Every fucking time, Claude! If you’re gonna do it, just pull the fucking trigger already.”

His eyes widened. She hadn’t tried that approach before. “Hi Lily,” he said meekly.

She glared at him and didn’t reply, but took out all the bullets in his gun and dropped them one by one down her shirt. “There,”

He grinned slowly. “If there’s one way to stop me…”

“I know it,”

Claude let out a long sigh and sat down on his couch to stare up at her, somewhat irritated. That had to be the third time she stopped him from committing suicide, and he flinched inwardly when he realized that.

“I got you dinner,” she said, her hands on her hips.

He looked back at where her bags lay abandoned on the ground. “I think it spilled,”

She glared at him. “That’s not my fault,”

Claude got up and gathered it up to bring over to the table, eyes lingering for a moment on the brown stain on his beige carpet. “Thanks, Lily,”

“No problem,” she answered too quickly.

“Do you want some?”

“I already ate,” she replied icily. Her eyes were still burning
dangerously, so he figured it was better to not say anything for a while. He’d learned from growing up with her that if you simply ignored her for a while, she’d come to eventually.

But he found that almost as hard as putting his finger on the trigger. The only way seemed to be to stare fixedly at his food, pretending to be fascinated with the orange chicken. Lily always seemed to think he wanted fake Chinese food, but he didn’t mind. She knew what he liked. He could feel her eyes on his neck and almost cringed from the heat of her disapproving gaze.

In a way, it was touching. It was her way of showing her sisterly love for him, but then he often knew instinctively that it was his job to protect her and he wasn’t doing it very well. Wasn’t it expected of any older brother?

Just as he predicted, she eventually came to sit by him and continue to glare in an opposite direction. “How’s work?” she questioned, picking bullets out of her bra.

“Okay,”

“Just okay?”

He nodded. “You?”

She worked as a counselor at the University of Aberdeen. He’d gone there himself a couple years ago, and he remembered the first time he saw her in action, he’d been surprised at how different a person she was at work. “It’s alright,” she answered.

Claude turned to look at her. “Just alright?”

Her glare answered for him. “Just alright.”

“Not stressful?”

“That too,” she replied. “How’s the food?”

“Okay,”

“Just okay?”

“Sure,”

She heaved a sigh. “Claude, if you’re not in the mood for conversation, just tell me to go,”

“I was under the impression that you were the one not in the mood for conversation,” he retorted.

“Oh, forgive me, I didn’t realize you were in the mood to be immature instead,” she said nastily.

He glared and looked away. “You heard from Danny lately?”

Danny was their older brother who’d moved off to America before either of them went to university. The only time they saw him was usually around Christmas time, and only seldom then. He seemed to be completely happy with his new life away from any family ties. Claude envied him to say the least.

She shook his head. “Last I heard, he’s blissfully married in San Diego,”

Claude grinned. “Typical Danny,”

She nodded. “Everyone liked him,”

He had no reply for that. Claude had always been the baby brother, no matter how much older than Lily he was. When he was younger, it was because of immaturity, now it was just because they’d gotten used to seeing him as such.

“You know,” Lily said slowly. “Maybe we should go visit him this year,”

“You’ll be paying for it, right?”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug.

Claude frowned in consternation. “I don’t think Danny wants his little siblings to embarrass him,”

“If anyone’s got a reason to complain, it’s me,” she said bitterly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

She grinned. “I don’t care if Danny doesn’t want us to come, I’m going,”

“That would be nice,”

She nodded. “Get out of Scotland and see the world,”

“I wanted to do that a long time ago,” he said sadly.

“You still can you know,”

He shrugged and put his fork down. “Thanks for coming,” he said after a long moment.

“Don’t go all sentimental on me,” she said with clear disgust. “But you’re not staying here alone tonight,”

“Who’s sentimental now?”

She looked over her shoulder jokingly. “Come on,” she said, getting up. “Get your stuff, we’ll go see a movie or something. Just like old times,”

“You never let Danny or I come to the movies with you and your friends,”

She shrugged. “You never wanted to,” she replied. “And besides, you would have been in the way,”

“Oh really? Of what?”

She grinned wickedly. “My friends always advised me not to bring older brothers to the movies when I had a date,”

He stared at her as she gathered her fallen bags. “You failed to mention that before,”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘failed’. Go get your stuff,” she ordered.

Still glaring suspiciously at her, he heeded her order and packed a duffel bag of things he’d need. “Can I have my gun back?” he asked tentatively as they started to leave.

“What a stupid question,”

He flinched. “Okay,”

Her nod was distinctly triumphant.