Changed {Martin Garrix Fanfiction}

Chapter 55

Chapter Fifty Five - What is Her Name?

- Martin's POV - 

My eyes flutter open at the brightness of the sun and from the sweet smell coming from another room. I groan as the light clashes with my open eyes, causing a short headache to emerge. I rub my temples slightly, my vision focussing more clearly. 

It's the fifth night I've stay with Nora. Her extra bedroom has become more of a home to me than my actual one. A bitter taste resides in my mouth and I know exactly what it's from. I'm more than exhausted and even all of the alcohol can't numb what I'm feeling mentally. 

I manage to sit up and look through my phone, although nothing or nobody has amused me enough to want to respond to them. I force myself to get up from the bed and I don't bother to put on a shirt as I walk out of the room. 

From the hallway, I can see Nora is cooking breakfast. My mouth waters, but I'm not sure if my stomach could handle everything she seems to be cooking. 

Her blonde hair is thrown up and her eyes catch mine immediately when I walk completely into sight, "Good morning," she smiles slightly, hesitation in her tone. 

"Morning," I reply lazily, my voice unsteady and weak. I take a seat at one of her barstools and continue to watch her cook. Suddenly, she slides me over a glass of water and I take it graciously.

"Did you sleep okay?" she then asks, her eyes guilty of worry. I haven't said one word about what happened. And I really don't want to anytime soon... or anytime. I need to forget. 

"Mhm," I mutter, now having to push thoughts of her out of my mind. Every time I close my eyes, I see her deep brown ones staring back into mine. However, they aren't warm and inviting; to me, the look cold and all I see is betrayal. 

"You hungry?" she asks as she clicks off the stove. I can sense that she is uncomfortable and is forcing her happiness, but I try to ignore it. I know she is worried, but I don't feel like talking about it. 

"Yeah," I say, trying to lighten up my mood, so she thinks I'm not feeling as shitty as I really am. Nora grabs two plates and prepares them with her favorite food; pancakes. She's loved them for as long as I can remember. I've been around her when she has made pancakes for dinner before.

In her normal Nora fashion, she makes them look pretty with fresh fruit on them. She hands me the plate over the counter and I thank her quickly. She carries her plate around the small kitchen and sits beside of me on the other barstool. 

I eat the delicious food quietly and I can sense her eyes on me. Nora has that natural 'mother instinct'. She can always tell when something is wrong. Especially when I've been acting strange ever since I got back from that hellhole. 

"Martijn," she says in a calm voice. Naturally, I look at her, but I don't say anything. "What's going on with you?" she asks, her brows furrowing in confusion.