6. A Rough Day

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-Jax-

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-Jax-


I wasn't sure why I woke up to the nightmares on Friday. It had been a while since the last time I had those dreams. It had to be because of that fucking Gabriel. I'd spend way too long thinking about him and his brother.

It was early when I woke up. I didn't get out of bed right away. It was hard to pull myself together this time. I did my breathing exercises, but it helped only a little. I had the feeling this was going to be a rough day.

After getting up from the bed, I immediately grabbed my sleeves and pulled them on. I fought back my urge to keep touching them as I made my way to the bathroom. I ended up pulling them up several times after washing my hands. Splashing cold water on my face didn't help, either.

"Fuck's sake..." I whispered, balling my hands into fists in hopes of stopping myself.

I hated that feeling, and I hated that fucking Gabriel for triggering me.

I stepped out of my room and entered the kitchen. My parents weren't awake yet, so I tried to be quiet as I started preparing for breakfast. I failed at being quiet.

It was Pop, Alex, who woke up first. He joined me in the kitchen with a sleepy expression on his face.

"Good morning! I thought I heard something," he said, peering at the clock. "It's... not even seven yet? Why are you up?"

I shrugged. "Didn't feel like staying in bed..."

He glanced at my sleeves. He already knew why I was awake. He gave me a smile and hugged me with one arm.

"You didn't sleep well, huh?"

"It's fine," I answered and turned the coffee machine on.

I had to focus on something, or I would've started plucking the sleeves. I really fucking hated that feeling... I tried to act like nothing was going on, but Pop could see right through it.

"Do you want to stay at home today?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I said.

He raised his eyebrow and hugged me again. "Well, if you change your mind..."

"I'll let you know."

I heard the door of the master bedroom opening, and Dad, Jessie, joined us only a few seconds later. I turned to tell him good morning, but he didn't reply to me, not before he had parked his wheelchair almost on top of my toes. He, too, had noticed the sleeves right away, and he leaned in to give me a hug.

"You were being restless last night," he said with a sad voice. "Did something happen yesterday?"

"I'm fine," I said reassuringly before standing up again, trying to hide my shaky hands.

He didn't believe me, either.

"If you need to stay at home–"

I let out a grumble. "I'm fine."

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