Tears trickled over my pale cheeks and dripped onto my open palm as I continued to breathe heavily. I hated crying, especially in front of others. But remembering everything that had happened to Bun and that I was the reason behind an innocent bunny's death made it difficult to stop crying.
I was selfish. I shouldn't have thought of making a "friend" that day. I should've known that James would get angry.
"Try calming down, Iris. Breathe slowly, in and out."
My head shot up, my teary eyes meeting Roman's cold ones. His jaw was clenched and his grip on my shoulder was firm, perhaps indicating that he was afraid of letting me go.
"You're safe," he told me, sincerity lacing his voice. "You'll be fine with us. Nothing's gonna happen to you."
I tried to breathe slowly and to steady my rapid breathing, but it seemed to be the most difficult task at that moment. My lungs were pleading for air; any small amount of it. And my throat was begging for the oxygen to pass through it, rather than getting trapped within.
My hand clutched onto my abdomen at the searing pain that had taken over.
I squeezed my eyes shut, attempting to block all the events from Bun's death out, only for the blurred flashbacks from the night I was admitted to the hospital to flash through my mind. A sob escaped my lips as I instantly reopened my eyes.
I didn't want to remember that night; it was terrifying. Yes, I couldn't remember every single detail, but the ones my mind managed to grasp onto were enough to pump fear throughout my body.
A gasp left my lips once I felt a warm hand engulf my cold one. I craned my neck upwards, my blurred vision landing on Marcus. Concern and distress swirled within his hazel eyes that stared back at mine. One of his hands started to rub mine in circles while the other one cupped my face.
"Inhale and exhale, slowly and calmly," he spoke, his soft tone void of sarcasm and mocks; a contrast to how he had sounded over the past week. "It's not that easy, I know. But try focusing on something else. Distract yourself."
Try focusing on something else.
Something other than that night.
I was safe. I was going to be fine. And James was no longer a part of my life. He couldn't hurt me anymore.
Bun was in a better place.
"It's working, isn't it?" Marcus asked softly, giving a reassuring squeeze to my hand. I hesitantly nodded. It wasn't better, but the last thing I needed was to draw more attention to myself.
"It's getting b-better," I whispered, inhaling and exhaling slowly just like Marcus had said.
"That's good," spoke Marcus, pulling his hand away from mine. My heart skipped a beat in sudden fear as I instantly missed the warmth my brother's grip had provided.
My eyes scanned the room, ignoring my brothers' concerned looks. My mouth and throat felt so dry.
"Water?" I heard Atlas say, his voice void of the usual excitement and joy it held. I hesitantly nodded, feeling more tears well up in my eyes.
It was dark, and I had probably woken all my brothers up. Even Elliott, Nolan, and Atlas weren't smiling as usual. Their eyes were filled with nothing other than sadness and concern. I couldn't help but feel guilty for interrupting their peace.
Atlas handed me a cup of water. I grasped it within my shaky hands and instantly gulped all of it. I placed the empty cup on the bedside table beside me once I was done and glanced at my brothers once again.
I couldn't keep looking at them; I was embarrassed because of the scene I had just caused. I had to know that I'd get a nightmare. I had been pressuring my mind a lot lately into remembering the exact events from the accident. I wish I knew that it'd end up with the memories from Bun's death.
My gaze dropped to one of my bandaged hands. "S-sorry," I mumbled, my heart pounding loudly against my chest.
Would they be angry?
They wouldn't hurt me, would they?
"What are you apologising for?"
I twisted my neck to my right — where Elliott was standing quietly. His eyes softened as they stared back into my identical ones. He didn't look like he was going to hurt me. Maybe he wasn't as bad as I thought. Maybe my brothers were different from James.
"I woke you up." I shrugged as a tear managed to escape from my eye. I blinked twice and sniffled in an attempt to stop more tears from escaping.
"You didn't wake us up," spoke Roman, sitting back on the bed — in front of me. "It's still seven. You didn't wake any of us, Iris."
My eyes locked with his and for the first time ever since I had met him, I saw some sort of emotions that I couldn't understand. His features had softened, and something about them told me that he wasn't as bad as I had thought. Cold perhaps, but not bad.
I wasn't aware of the way my mind had started to view things over the past week. My thoughts were a chaotic mess, carrying on with a debate on whether I should trust those brothers or not. My mind would sometimes scream at me; order me to speak out, to get rid of the heavy burden settling on my heart.
But whenever I open my mouth to speak, the words would get stuck within my throat. I wouldn't manage to word my thoughts, because I myself couldn't understand them; I couldn't exactly remember what the flashbacks consisted of. A crimson liquid and a lot of pain and noise — that was all I could remember.
It frustrated me; it really did. I was so exhausted, but it felt as though I had no other option. I had to stay quiet for my sake. The flashbacks would eventually clear up. And even if they didn't, they'd probably haunt my sleep one day, and I'd manage to clearly remember them.
"Do you. . ." Roman cut himself off and shook his head as though I would never agree to what he wanted to say. "I have a question, Iris."
I hummed to his words as I started to tug onto my lips. I was aware of the way my heart was pacing wildly within my chest and the way the disgusting metallic taste had filled my mouth.
"What triggers your nightmares?"
I stared at him, unable to let any word out. I wanted to shrug — I attempted to do so. But I couldn't. It felt as though my body was screaming at my mind, telling it to speak out. To tell my brother about the real reason I'd get a nightmare.
"They're flashbacks." I forced the words out through the lump that had blocked my throat and nervously shifted my gaze from Roman to the others. "I often get them because of— for random reason. They're worse because of the accident. I– I've been trying to remember how it happened."
Roman's hand stroked my hair before it cupped my face. A sigh left his lips as he proceeded to talk.
"Don't pressure yourself. If you get any flashback, find any of us. Believe me, we're all willing to help."
I nodded to his words even though I wasn't actually planning on doing what he had said.
"I'll go to my office. You'll find me there if you need anything. "
His gaze locked with Nolan's before it travelled to Atlas. It looked like they were having a wordless conversation going on between them.
Roman gently ruffled my hair before he stood up and disappeared out of the room. Marcus didn't spare me glance before following Roman out while Elliott kissed my forehead and followed them.
An eerie silence settled upon the room, nothing other than my deep inhales interrupting it. I did all I could to avoid Nolan's and Atlas' gaze and to ignore the way their eyes were piercing into my head. It seemed like they were attempting to find an explanation to what had happened right now, or perhaps a week ago. But I was aware of the consequences that'd follow my words — if I said any.
"Did you ever have a sleepover?" Asked Atlas. His eyes glimmered, indicating that he had just gotten an idea that he liked. I shook my head to his question. I didn't want to have any friends after what had happened to Bun.
I didn't want to be the reason someone else got hurt.
"Well then, your first one will be with Nolan and I. Tonight. Before that, we gotta have a tour around the house."
A smile tugged Nolan's lips as he nodded in agreement to Atlas' words. Amusement, as well as a glint of hope, bounced within his eyes. "Yeah, we'll have a tour so that you don't get lost in the future."
"Is the house that big?" I asked; my mind had started its attempts to block everything out again. Any source of distraction would be good at the moment, even if it were about a house I might not manage to spend a long time at.
"You'll see," chuckled Atlas, heading to the end of the room and getting the wheelchair.
"I'm not getting in that again!" I blurted out, stubbornly shaking my head. I could just use the crutches and walk. What was the point of using a wheelchair?
"The house is too big," said Atlas. "You'd get tired of walking. Plus, you just woke up. You shouldn't be in the mood to walk around."
I was about to shake my head and argue with him. But even before I could let a word out, I was lifted into Nolan's arms in bridal style. I instantly wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed my eyes shut, fearing that I'd fall off and injure myself more than I had already done.
"Hey!" I protested, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I can walk."
"I've never said that you can't. You're just a bit tired, munchkin. And you hate using the wheelchair for some reason."
"Good idea, bro," chuckled Atlas, opening the door as Nolan walked out.
I was surprised of how easily he had managed to hold me. I thought I was heavy; that was what James and Claire had always said. And that was why they had never allowed me to eat much.
The lights that lit up the hallway weren't too bright. I stared at the walls surrounding us, noticing all the pictures that were hung over them. I assumed that they all belonged to my brothers, because the faces in the pictures looked too familiar.
"The room beside yours is mine," spoke Atlas, pointing at the door that was the closest to my room.
- - -
Nolan and Atlas had shown me almost every room in the house. All the rooms were too big — a lot larger than what I had with my fosters. The house also had an office (where Roman and Elliott would be working from in the upcoming weeks), and a GYM.
"Your house is beautiful," I told Nolan who was now sitting on the couch beside me, his eyes scanning the dimmed living room.
"It's yours too, munchkin," he said, instantly making a faint creep onto my lips.
Him and Atlas had managed to distract my thoughts off the nightmare I had and off the bad memories that were running through my mind. Whether they were the sweet things one of them would say or the jokes anyone of them would crack. It felt as though they had a special power that would instantly make me grin.
"Dinner's ready." I heard Atlas yell from one of the hallways.
Nolan helped me in standing before handing me the crutches. I had spent ten minutes of the tour convincing him and Atlas that I can use them. And that I didn't need a wheelchair or one of them carrying me all the way around the house.
They both walked by my side (even though I was walking slowly) till we arrived at the kitchen. It was apparently late and all of my brothers were too exhausted to cook so they ended up ordering pizza.
I took a seat between Atlas and Nolan and stared warily at my plate. The first thought that crossed my mind was that the food was too much for me to eat and that I wouldn't even manage to finish half of it.
- - -
That thought was right. While my brothers managed to eat a lot more than they initially had on their plate, I barely managed to eat less than half of the pizza slice before feeling bloated.
It wasn't only that, but I also felt nauseous. It felt as though I'd throw up if I took another bite from the pizza in front of me.
"Why aren't you eating?"
I glanced up, my eyes meeting Elliott's identical ones. Concern swirled within his eyes, a glint of worry and agitation evident through his features — his furrowed eyebrows and the frown that had tugged his lips.
"I ate a lot," I mumbled, my gaze dropping to my lap. All the attention was drawn to me, and I hated that. It made me feel so uncomfortable.
"It's fine," spoke Roman. My eyes shot up towards him. I was taken aback, because I had expected him to get angry, or perhaps force me to eat the way James used to sometimes do. He didn't.
He looked at Elliott but didn't say a word. They both exchanged looks as though it were a way of communication between both of them. Elliott looked back at me, his lips lifting into a small, apologetic smile.
"Sorry Iris. Didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."
I simply nodded, smiling slightly at him and feeling grateful that they hadn't forced me into eating.
Soon enough, all my brothers went back to eating and chatting together. I would've preferred to stay silent (just like Marcus), but the other four brothers were trying their best to bring up topics that I would involve with. And I didn't want any of them to feel bad or concerned.
They were a lot better than what I had initially thought.
the next chapter is gonna be from a brother's pov *smirks*
thank you for 1k reads & 100 votes, i haven't expected the book to get that amount of support :)
love y'all, take care <33