Wings and Waves

Chapter 10: Love Triangle

Shino's POV

The rain had barely stopped when I stepped through the door, soaked to the bone, my fists still clenched from the fight. The house was too quiet, the kind of silence that’s waiting to explode. Louis’s shoes were already by the door-he’d run home first, as always, leaving me to pick up the pieces. I could still see Yvonne’s pale face in the streetlights, her voice trembling as she thanked me for walking her home. The image made my blood boil all over again.

I found Louis in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with his head in his hands. He looked up when I entered, his eyes bloodshot and jaw set, and for a moment, I saw the brother I’d grown up with-the one who taught me to swim, who always had my back. But tonight, all I saw was the man who’d hurt someone I cared about.

“You left her,” I spat, voice raw. “You left her in the rain after everything you did.”

Louis’s face twisted, but he didn’t look away. “You don’t know what happened. You don’t know her like I do.”

I slammed my fist on the counter, the sound echoing through the marble and glass. “I know enough! I know what I saw. And I know you’re not the person I looked up to anymore.”

The words hung between us, bitter and sharp.

Our father’s footsteps thundered down the hall, his presence filling the room like a storm front. He stopped in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes cold. “Enough. Both of you. This is not how sons of mine behave.”

Louis squared his shoulders, defiant. “He started it.”

I scoffed. “You started it the moment you raised your hand to her.”

Our mother appeared behind Dad, her face drawn but her voice steady. “What happened?” she demanded, her tone brooking no lies. She moved between us, her strength the only thing holding the room together. “Tell me, now.”

Louis opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “He hurt Yvonne. He lost control. I saw it.”

Mathiala peeked around the corner, her small face tight with worry. “Why are you yelling?” she whispered, clutching her whale plushie like a lifeline.

Dad’s voice was like ice. “Upstairs, Mathiala. Now.”

She hesitated, tears brimming, but Mom knelt and pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Go to your room. We’ll talk later.”

When Mathiala disappeared, the storm broke loose again. Louis and I hurled words like knives, every old resentment and new betrayal spilling out. I hated him for what he’d done; he hated me for getting involved. The line between us, once invisible, was now carved deep and jagged.

Dad’s patience snapped. “If you two can’t control yourselves, you’ll destroy this family. Is that what you want? For everything we’ve built to fall apart because of pride and jealousy?”

Mom’s eyes glistened, but her voice didn’t waver. “We fix things together, or we lose everything. That’s the choice.”

But as I glared at Louis-my brother, my rival-I knew there was no fixing this. Not yet. Not when the wound was still bleeding, and the person we both loved was the one thing that could tear us apart.

And for the first time, I wondered if Dad was right. Maybe only one of us would be left standing when this was over

I took a step closer, voice low but sharp. “You think you’re the only one who’s hurting? Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch you destroy everything? To see her scared because of you?”

Louis’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else-pain, maybe guilt-lurking beneath. “Don’t pretend you’re her savior, Shino. You don’t know what she’s been through. You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

“Oh, I know enough,” I shot back. “Enough to see you’re not the man you pretend to be. You’re reckless, selfish, and you think you can fix it all with empty promises.”

Louis laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “And you? The perfect little brother who thinks he can play hero? You’re just as blind. You don’t get to judge me.”

My fists clenched tighter. “I’m not judging. I’m trying to stop you before you ruin everything. Before you ruin her.”

Louis’s jaw twitched. “Maybe she deserves better than you. Maybe she deserves someone who’s not afraid to fight.”

The words hit me like a slap. “You don’t get to talk about what she deserves. Not after what you did.”

Dad’s voice cut through the room like thunder. “Enough! Both of you! This bickering is poison. You’re tearing this family apart.”

I looked at him, my chest heaving. “He started it.”

Louis shot back, “No, he did.”

Mom stepped in, her eyes blazing. “Stop it! Both of you! You’re acting like children while the people who love you are breaking.”

Louis’s face twisted with frustration. “Maybe this family is broken already.”

I shook my head, voice trembling. “No. We’re not broken. Not yet. But if you keep this up, we will be.”

Louis’s stare was hard, unyielding. “Then maybe it’s time to break.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy between us. Mom’s hands trembled slightly, but her voice was steady. “This isn’t the way. We will find a way through this. Together.”

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe in us. But as I looked at Louis-the brother I loved and hated all at once-I wasn’t sure if ‘together’ was still possible.

The tension between us was a living thing, thick and suffocating. Louis’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. I could feel the heat radiating off him, a challenge and a warning all at once.

I refused to look away. My own hands balled into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. The silence stretched, broken only by the relentless pounding of rain against the windows and the distant rumble of thunder.

Louis took a step forward, closing the shrinking space between us. His eyes bore into mine, dark and stormy. “You think you know everything, don’t you? You think you can just swoop in and fix everything like some kind of hero.”

I met his gaze evenly, voice low but steady. “I’m not trying to be a hero. I’m trying to stop you from destroying everything.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might strike me. But instead, he turned sharply and stalked toward the staircase, each step heavy with anger and frustration.

Dad’s voice cut through the charged air, sharp and commanding. “Enough. Both of you. Upstairs. Now.”

Mom followed close behind, her presence a fierce shield between us and the rest of the house. Her eyes were wet but resolute. “You will not break this family apart.”

Mathiala’s small voice trembled from the hallway. “Please don’t fight.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking deep. I wanted to reach out to her, to promise her that we’d be okay. But first, Louis and I had to face the storm between us.

As we ascended the stairs, the house seemed to hold its breath, the storm outside mirroring the one inside. The path ahead was uncertain, shadowed by anger and pain, but one thing was clear: this war between brothers was far from over.

And only one of us would come out standing.