Finding Home

Chapter 4

Snapping awake at a sound I cannot place, I try to figure out where in the bloody hell I am at. Then it hits me that I'm at Sawyer's home, asleep in his spare bedroom that is mine while I'm living with him. Once the movie was finished last night, he carefully woke me, and helped me to the bedroom to sleep in the bed. Glancing at the clock on the wall to my left to see that it's 3:23 a.m. Sighing, I throw the black and navy stripped blanket and sheet off me to climb out of the warm bed. Stretching my arms over my head, and effectivly cracking my entire back and neck, relieving the tension. 

Walking across the hall to use the bathroom, and once finished I flush the toilet, wash my hands, face and teeth. Combing my slightly damp fingers through my hair trying to control the horrible bed-head hair with not much luck. Leaving the room, I head to the kitchen for a glass of water before sitting on the couch in the living room. 

'I wonder what time Sawyer gets up on his days off?' I wonder to myself as I lean back against the couch and stare out the large window on my right. 

Taking a sip of the cold liquid before leaning forward to place the glass on a coaster on the coffee table before leaning back. Taking the throw blanket off the back of the couch, I wrap it around my upper torso as I continue to stare outside. I don't even notice when my eyes flutter shut, and I fall back asleep - into a light sleep as I don't sleep deeply. When Sawyer enters the living room sometime later, my eyes instantly snap open when he lightly enters the room, and we make eye contact.

"Good morning, Wyatt," his gravely morning voice greets me with a soft smile.

"Morning, Sawyer," I reply with my own gravely morning voice, as I stand and crack my back and neck again. 

Folding the blanket back onto the couch, I grab the glass off the coffee table as Sawyer asks me while we enter the kitchen; "Does your body always crack like that when you wake up?" 

"Yeah," I softly reply with a small shrug while Saywer pulls bacon and eggs from the fridge. 

Glancing at the microwave for the time, which is 7 a.m. before turning my attention back to Sawyer; "Can I help?"

"Sure, you can cook the eggs however you want," he grins, showing off his pretty white, straight teeth.

"Okay, scrambled eggs it is then," I smirk since that's the only way I can cook eggs. "Are you always up this early on your days off?" 

"Early? This is sleeping in for me. Normally, I'm up by 4:30 a.m on work days," he smirks. "What time did you get up this morning?"

"Um, like 3:20, but as you saw, I did fall back asleep on the couch," I answer while cracking several eggs into a frying pan. "I hope I didn't wake you earlier?"

"You didn't. I take it you don't sleep well?" he sadly asks while glancing at me from where he's cooking the bacon next to me. 

"Not really, but I've gotten used to it while I was living on the streets. Can't sleep to hard or bad things can happen," I shrug while keeping my gaze on the eggs so these don't burn. 

"Well, you can now since you're safe here," he assures me gently. "After breakfast we're going shopping for you, we'll have lunch out if you'd like. Then we'll get a few groceries before we come home, and once we come back, I'll call your caseworker to see if he's locacted West."

Instantly grinning at the mention of my little brother, I can't keep the excitment out of my voice; "That sounds great, thank you, Sawyer!"

"Not a problem," he chuckles while cooking the bacon and panacakes. 

After the food is finsished cooking, we settle at the table across from each other with everything we need, we chat lightly while we eat. Finishing breakfast about twenty minutes later, we clear away the dirty dishes into the dishwasher or into the sink filled with hot, soapy water to soak before we dress to leave. Sawyer had folded the laundry I started yesterday evening while watching the movie last night while I slept, so I could wear my clothes that fit better than his. Climbing into his red 2018 Ford Ranger, and before he pulls from the driveway, he asks what kind of music I like, and I told him anything but rap, and I'm sorry if you like rap, I just don't.