Insufficient

Chapter Seven - Things That Don't Mix

A/N- I'm sorry in advance 

TW

Juliana's POV 

I came to my senses slowly, something I didn't do often, realising how comfortable I was. I yawned, snuggling deeply into my pillow as I sighed in contentment. It wasn't often that I woke up without a nightmare, or someone crushing me half to death.

I heard a deep rumble and a chuckle, fingers running softly through my hair.

"Hush Pillow." I mumbled, repositioning my head to get comfortable again.

I was almost back asleep before I realised that pillows don't talk. Nor do they run their fingers through your hair. Popping my head up in alarm, I groaned when that made me smack up against the hand in my hair.

Great, another headache.

I put my head back down, deciding that it was too early to deal with this.

"Are you okay?" A voice asked and I screamed, flinging myself to the side, and in true Juliana fashion, I ended up on the floor.

"Juliana!" Massimo's face came into view, and I froze as everything that happened last night came back to mind.

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LAST NIGHT - 1 AM 

I wasn't exactly sure what was going on downstairs, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

Apparently something had come up at one of the businesses that needed literally every adult in the house's attention, and Hunter had been left to "watch us."

Unbeknownst to them, the minute everyone had left the house, Hunter invited a bunch of his friends over, and they were currently downstairs doing who knows what. He had simply told Justin and I to stay in our rooms, which wasn't a problem for Justin because he still had writing to do.

It made me seriously wonder just how mean Grandpa had been when dishing out his punishment.

However there was one problem. I was hungry. The adults had left about an hour before dinner (which was hours ago), and I had forgotten to eat lunch, too caught up in my drawing, and my breakfast had been picked out before being forgotten about.

On the bright side, I had finally gotten the eyes just how I wanted them, and then I got a little caught up with the colour spectrum. The only reason I had stopped was because Elliot had to leave and I felt too awkward being in here without him.

So here I was, in a pit of a dilemma. I wanted food, but I didn't want to go downstairs and deal with whatever the fuck was happening down there. And the idiot that is myself, forgot to stash some emergency snacks.

Just then I started thinking about how I had been violently craving the fudge that Dad taught me to make. And I'm the type of person that if I eat sweets on an empty stomach, I throw up. Welp, it's either go eat or cry about dad.

I choose food.

I hadn't even made it halfway down the stairs when I realised how bad I had just fucked up.