All I Want, All You Need Ch. 1

My birth was unexpected and no one had been prepared for it in the least. My family had been in Iceland visiting my mother's relatives when her water suddenly broke. I was two months early. Despite this, though, I was perfectly healthy, even though I was incredibly small. My mother described my coming into the world a miracle, as she knew some premature children passed away.

When I was three months old, we took a plane back to Norway, my father's native country and the country where my older brother of four years was born.

From what I was told, we had a happy family life full of laughter and smiles. My parents adored my brother and I, practically spoiling us. But that all ended one night when a violent argument erupted between my parents, apparently due to conflicting views or something. I was never told. My brother had tried to break them apart before rushing from the room and taking me with him. I can vaguely remember him cowering in a dark corner and clutching onto my confused self as if holding on for dear life. His body trembled and he rocked back and forth, whispering incoherent words to me. I was confused, I know that, and I could hear loud shouts and yells coming from another room.

Two months after the argument and a month after I had turned two, my mother grabbed me up and fled back to Iceland to live with her parents. Life in our home after the argument had supposedly been rough on Mom and she just couldn't take it anymore. That's what Grandma told me, at least. And after another month, my parents were legally divorced. Mom took custody of me and Dad took custody of my brother. Mom was very upset at the outcome of not having her two sons with her, so she took to spoiling me with all her might. I didn't ask for much though. One of the most important things I asked for was a stuffed puffin toy, which Mom bought for me in a heartbeat.

For two years, our separated family had nothing to do with each other, my parents refusing to speak with one another. And by that time, I had entirely forgotten about having an older brother. Mom reminded me of him, though, for she informed me us siblings would soon meet. Our parents had become civil enough to decide that they couldn't keep us away from each other forever.

Mom informed me one cool summer evening of my brother's soon to be arrival. We had been quietly sitting on the back porch, sharing a bag of licorice and watching the sunset. My small form had leaned against her thin arm, content with the silence as I usually was.

"Lukas will be here next week," she spoke, a small smile gracing her delicate features. I turned my head up to her, a look of puzzlement upon my face. I popped another piece of licorice in my mouth before speaking.

"Who's Lukas?" I asked, truly confused. She looked down at me, her eyes meeting my blue ones. They were sad looking, but her smile remained. She lifted a hand and ran her small fingers through my platinum blond, almost white, hair.

"Lukas is your older brother. He's eight years old now," she explained, a look of fondness overtaking her face. "He's living in Norway in with your father." The last word she said was spoken with a highly bitter tone, and it had caught me off guard from my usually sweet mother. But I didn't say anything about it. I had been more focused on the revelation of having a brother.

"I have an older brother?" She nodded in answer. I looked to my lap, then back to her. "What's he like?" Mom bit her lip and looked away, clasping her hands together in her lap.

"I'm not so sure, dear," she said, her voice dripping with guilt. "I haven't seen him in two years. But he seemed pleased to talk to me over the phone." I silently ate a few pieces of licorice while listening to her. She had always said I was a great listener and a very smart child.

"He's coming next week?" She nodded again and smiled when she saw a grin break across my face. I pressed my legs against my chest and rested my chin on my knees, rocking back and forth slightly. I couldn't help but feel excited at meeting this boy, my brother. Did he look like me? What's his personality? Does he have the same hobbies as I do?

I must have fallen asleep while thinking all this, for the next thing I recall is waking up in my bed, sunlight pouring in through my windows.

-----

When we arrived at the airport, we quickly found Lukas. Mom had hugged him, tears swimming in her eyes at seeing her son again. He hugged her back, clutching onto the fabric of her dress. And when he looked at me, I froze and waited for him to say something. His first words took me aback, though.

"Call me Older Brother."

I fidgeted nervously, but quickly agreed to it. This seemed to please him, for the next thing I knew, he had his arms wrapped around my shoulders, embracing me with a firm hold.

Lukas was a stoic, lanky boy with blond hair that was a tad bit darker than mine and he had a strange curl sticking out from the side of his head. It was so thin that it was almost as if it were floating and not actually attached. When you looked into his dark blue eyes, you could practically see a void of nothing. And his personality was fairly emotionless. He barely ever smiled.

I remember returning from the airport and watching Lukas be greeted with hugs and kisses from our grandparents. He seemed happy to see them as well.

Lukas and I became very close quickly and he was fairly clingy to me. I didn't understand it, and when I asked Mom, she answered by telling me that when she was pregnant with me, Lukas was very excited to be an older brother. When I was born, he would help Mom care for me. She said he would even sing lullabies to help me drift off into sleep. In other words, he had always wanted to be my role model, someone who I could look up to. And in all honesty, it turned out that way. In my eyes, Lukas was amazing. He would tell me tales of trolls and fairies and of magical lands. I would sit and listen, entranced by the beautiful landscapes he would describe in vivid detail.

Our parents worked out a deal about Lukas and I visiting each other. The summer after Lukas visited Iceland, I flew to Norway to bond with my father. Dad was a tall man with a stern looking face and a personality to match. But deep down, he was actually very kind and caring. But there was a distinct difference between how Lukas acted with Dad and with Mom. When around our mother, he was always gentle and kind. He would hold her hand and stroke it gently, and every once in a while, I would catch a faint smile on his face.

But with Dad, it was as if he were someone completely different. He was defiant, cold, rude and when he spoke directly to our father, his voice dripped with sarcasm. They would often bicker and more times than one, I would hear Lukas mutter under his breath, cursing Dad for separating him and I. Since I was at such a young age, I was confused at why Lukas despised our father so much, but I never questioned it.

One year while I was visiting them, a particularly rough argument sounded between the two. Lukas had retreated to his room while Dad sighed, exasperated, and ran his fingers through his hair. He sat down on the couch, rubbing his eyes which had very dark circles underneath them. He caught me watching and sent me a tired smile, saying I could go to my room. I complied with it and hurried up the stairs. But I had paused when I heard a soft sob come from Lukas's room. I peeked in through the crack in his doorway, watching as he lay on his bed, crying and holding onto a stuffed pink rabbit toy. I had wanted to go in and say something, anything, to him, but I was too frightened to do so at the time.

-----

In the summer of the year Lukas had turned ten and I had turned turned six, he was back in Iceland visiting Mom and I. He acted a bit differently, though. He spoke to Mom and I plenty, but a lot of his time was spent at the kitchen table as he scribbled down words onto a blank piece of paper. After that, he would take the paper to Mom, who would seal it in an envelope and place it in the mailbox for him. And everyday, he would check to see if anything new had arrived for him.

After a few days, he would receive a reply to his letter. He acted nonchalant about it, but Mom would tease him about that very clear spark of eagerness in his eyes. He would fervently deny the statements, though.

I once asked him what he was doing that seemed so important. He looked to me, then back to the paper and wrote a few mores lines, then returned his gaze to mine, finally deciding to answer my question. He seemed a bit hesitant, almost embarrassed, at first.

Apparently, a project at Lukas's school had required the students to write to a pen pal regularly. Lukas had been partnered with an eleven year older Danish boy named Mathias Køhler. The project was long over with, but the two had become such great friends that they continued to write to one another. Sometimes I would hear Lukas talking on the phone and I could only assume it was Mathias he was speaking to. What confused me was, if they were such close friends, why did Lukas always sound so annoyed and distant when speaking to the other boy? I didn't question it, though. I had no reason to.

I remember once asking Lukas if he liked Mathias. I was too young to understand love completely, and I had believed the question was entirely normal. Lukas replied by giving me a stern no, but I did manage to catch the pink tint that had sprung to his cheeks when he had said this.

-----

When I was twelve and Lukas was sixteen, upon arriving to Iceland, he informed Mom he was dating someone. Mom inquired as to if the girl was pretty, to which he responded by coolly telling her he was involved with another male. He spoke clearly and with confidence, but I could tell he was nervous as to what she would say. Thankfully, Mom took it in stride, which visibly relieved him. Her next question was what was the other boy like.

"He's an idiot."

Mom had chuckled at this statement, finding it very amusing. Lukas couldn't help but smile at her, the chime of laughter very calming to him. She continued to ask questions about his partner and he answered them all, still giving snarky remarks about the man.

It turned out that Lukas was dating Mathias, his former pen pal. His school had taken a trip to Denmark, and a week prior to departure, the two made a plan to where they could meet in private. From what I was told, upon meeting each other, Mathias confessed having feelings for Lukas and had asked him to be his boyfriend. Obviously, Lukas agreed to it.

I was very confused at the time, for I had thought only men and women could be together in romantic relationships. Curiosity hit me hard, and I finally decided to ask Lukas about the strange phenomena. I had accidentally walked in on one of his phone calls to Mathias.

"You're an idio-I have to go. My little brother is here." He glanced down at me, listening to the words being said on the other line. "Hmph. Annoying." With that, he hung up and turned his attention to me fully. I didn't hesitate on asking, for I felt completely at ease when asking Lukas these sort of things.

"Why are you with another boy?" I asked, tightening my grip on my puffin toy. Lukas looked at the ceiling, pondering on how to answer my question, before patting the spot next to him on the bed. I climbed onto it and made myself comfortable, then looked back to him, waiting for an answer.

"It may sound strange, I know," he started, "but when you're in love, it doesn't matter what gender they are or who they once were." He noticed the confused look in my eyes and smiled, his generally blank eyes soft. He patted my head gently. "You'll understand one day."

Little did I know is that someday I would understand all too well.

-----

Through the years, I noticed Mom was becoming weaker and weaker with each passing day. A month after I turned fifteen, she was hospitalized. Upon hearing the news, Lukas hopped onto the quickest flight headed for Iceland. When he arrived, him and I sat by her hospital bed, praying for her to be okay. Within a week, she passed away due to cancer.

Lukas and I were generally detached, barely showing any emotion, but for the weeks after Mom's death, we showed more emotion than ever. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night and rush to the guest room, looking for comfort from my older brother. And he offered it, being as calm as possible without breaking down into tears himself.

Lukas stayed with me and our grandparents for a month before he finally had to return to college. It was obvious he didn't want to part from me, shown through the numerous and random hugs he gave me while waiting to board his flight. At last, we said our goodbyes to each other.

I stayed with my grandparents before they decided it was an excellent idea for me to go stay with Lukas and Mathias in England, where the two attended college together. I denied doing so at first, not wishing to leave my home and beloved country and few friends I had. After a few more tries, though, I caved. And Lukas was ever so happy to welcome me into him and Mathias's home. A bit too happy for my liking.

And so here I am, Emil Steilsson Bondevik, aged sixteen years old and living with my clingy twenty year old brother and his over the top twenty one year old boyfriend(Lukas hadn't been lying when he said Mathias was an idiot.) in London, England in their three bedroom apartment. An Icelandic native about to enter his eleventh year of school.

And, oh, how I am dreading it.

First off, I'm not the tallest teenager you'll come across. And my skin is fairly pale. Another down is that I'm naturally feminine looking. Lukas and I got that from our mother, neither one of us taking too much after Dad. And I'm lanky, to say the least. And then there's my accent. My horribly thick accent that is going to stand out so much from all the British I will hear. To top it all off, the school I'm attending is a private school that is combined with Lukas's college. Joyous.

I had myself comfortable on my new bed, my face buried in the pillow. I could barely hear Lukas and Mathias in the kitchen, bickering about something. I heard footsteps approach my room and remained still as someone opened my door.

"Em! Time for dinner!" Mathias chirped. I lifted my face from the pillow, glowering at him.

"Don't call me that," I said, my voice angry. Mathias's stupid grin remained as he stood in the doorway, waiting for me to get up and join them. Instead of doing that, though, I allowed my face to meet the pillow once more. I heard Mathias sigh in defeat.

"Em, come on. You've barely eaten anything while you've been here. You've got to be hungry!" I grunted in response. "Lukas, your brother won't eat again!" Mathias whined in his obnoxious tone. I listened as Lukas approached.

"Make him," he ordered calmly. Mathias groaned.

"I barely just met the kid! I'm not force feeding him!"

"You can try."

"But Lukas-!"

"You can try."

I was getting fed up with listening to the two and decided to speak.

"I'm right here, you know. Would you kindly leave me alone?" I said bitterly. Mathias whispered something to Lukas and Lukas whispered back before I heard retreating footsteps. I thought they were gone, so I lifted my head only to find Lukas still standing there, his blank eyes staring at me.

"Brother," he said, making his way over to me and taking a seat on my bed. "We should talk."

"And if I don't want to?" I questioned, giving him a weak glare.

"We should talk," he repeated, making his point clear. Sighing, I sat up straight and looked straight at him, our eyes meeting. "I know you don't want to be here." No, really? "And I know England isn't one of your favorite places, but you can try to make the best out of this." I looked down at my lap, frowning. I never was sure how I should respond to him in these kind of situations.

"It's just, Lukas-"

"Older brother."

"-Lukas, I've lived in Iceland practically my entire life. The only other place I've been to is Norway." And it was true. Our family was never big on traveling. "I left my home, the country I fell in love with, just to come here because people thought it would be "best" for me. And I feel as if staying in Iceland was best for me. I didn't have many friends, but I would of preferred graduating with them rather than people I don't know at all." I paused, thinking of how to continue supporting my thoughts when Lukas cut in.

"Make new friends," he said, and I mentally laughed. On the outside, I drew my lips into a thin line and fought the urge to punch him.

"Easier said than done," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I'm like you in that retrospect. I don't get along with people too well." It was true. People just never appealed to me. Especially teenagers. All teenagers did, from what I've read and watched, are whine about their love lives and how their heart would be broken, only to get a new lover the next week. Then there was constant back stabbing between so called friends. All of it was an utter turn off.

Lukas continued to eye me, thinking on what I had said. Finally, he shrugged.

"You can do it," he reassured, giving me a thumbs up. How cliche of him. I glared before flopping back down onto my bed, grumbling to myself. Lukas touched my back tenderly, rubbing it.

"Don't touch me," I muttered, but the words were muffled by the pillow.

"I understand what you're saying, but this is what Mom wanted for you." Damn. He knew exactly how to get into my head. Stupid brother.

I peered at him and his face was a tad bit softer looking. His hand made its way to my head, petting my hair. I once again told him not to touch me. I felt the bed shift as he stood up, straightening out his shirt.

"A week before school starts, there's going to be a gathering for the students to meet up with each other. I expect you to come with Mathias and I." Lukas readjusted the hairpin Mom had given him before continuing. "You can try meeting some of the other students and I can warn you on who to avoid."

"And if I don't want to go?"

"You're going," he decided, crossing his arms. I exhaled a breath I had been holding in and nodded, already knowing I had no choice in the matter. This seemed to please Lukas, for he once again patted my head. He turned on his heel to leave the room, telling me he would bring me my dinner. He paused before exiting, though.

"What is it now?" I questioned, raising a brow at him. His head turned and our eyes met for a moment.

"You're going to call me Older Brother at school." My eyes narrowed.

"I'll say I don't know you," I countered, scowling slightly. Lukas didn't respond and he left, leaving me alone to whither in my despair and worry. I groaned and rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling and holding the pillow against my chest, thinking over the conversation. Maybe I could try making friends. Maybe opening up wouldn't be so hard.

I laughed bitterly and pressed the pillow against my face. Who was I kidding? And amidst these thoughts, one would blatantly stand out from the rest.

Was it never what I wanted?