- Alexander -
I woke up with a headache and the bed to myself. I looked at the clock to see it was just after 7:30pm. Memories flood back to me: working on homework at the desk, hearing the rain, John comforting me.
He must be making dinner now, because I fell asleep in his arms and vaguely remember him laying down with me. Shoving the covers off of me, I walk to the bathroom to get Advil for my headache and then go to the kitchen.
My feet feel heavy, and it seems like gravity is putting more pressure on me than usual. I suppose I'm still tired, until I remember all the bruises and cuts that cover my body from Jefferson.
I try to push the thought of him out of my mind as I slowly walk to the kitchen, sitting down at the table. I curl into a chair, my feet tucked up and my arms around my knees. John looks over at me when he hears me pulling out the chair and gives me a sympathetic smile.
"Dinner's almost ready. Are you still tired? You could've slept longer, I know today's been a really rough day for you." He said, stirring something around in a pot on the stove. I shrugged for a moment before resting my chin back on my knees as John put soup into two bowls and slid one across the table to me.
The weather was finally cooling down, hitting the low forties at night and high fifties during the day. It was the beginning of December but that's about as cool as it would get around here. New York was a whole different story.
I stirred the soup around with the spoon for a minute or two as John began to eat. He occasionally glanced at me, probably hoping I'd eat.
After a couple minutes, I forced a few spoonfuls into my mouth and ate some. It was really good, actually. But the calories...
I shook the thought from my head. The doctors (and John) told me that everytime I think of stuff like that when I ate, to just shake it away and keep going.
I barely ate a third of the bowl by the time I motioned that I was finished, but John seemed pleased with that. It felt good to make him happy, even if it meant eating. Which was something I really didn't want to do still.
I went back to bed when dinner was over, my headache not fading even after the food or medication. The anxiety still remained too, but that wasn't really anything new. I drifted in and out of sleep for a while, tossing and turning as nightmares flashed through my head.
Being kicked, punched, slapped. First by Dad, then by my brother James, then by Jefferson.
"You're worthless."
My fathers dead body, and the note saying it was my fault for being such a disappointment of a son.
"You're never going to be loved by anyone."
My mother weeping as my brother drove off with all his bags in the backseat and a girl in the passengers seat. We'd never hear from him again.
"You have no purpose in life."
Me, standing alone at my mothers grave, sobbing in silence as I clutched the cold stone.
"Lose weight, you're so unattractive."
John crying, sitting next to me in a hospital bed, after I passed out from not eating.
"You will never be anything. Why don't you just kill yourself?"
Suddenly, I woke up with a gasp, shooting up in the bed. I could feel myself trembling, my forced breathing, my face damp with cold sweat. I pulled the covers up against my face, breathing in deeply. The blankets smelled like John; like lavender soap and the beach and wood. I rested my head between my knees as I breathed the scent in, trying to calm myself down.
And then John walked into the dark room and saw me there, shaking and breathing in and out, in and out, in and out. He came over to me quickly and embraced me, climbing into the blankets next to me. His soft shirt smelled like the blankets. He smelled like home. He felt like home. He is home.
I didn't have anymore nightmares once I was in his arms.
a/n: only a few more chapters left of this book! but don't worry, there will be a sequel since there's a ton of stuff I want to do still. Also I'm oddly proud of this chapter? It's the first one I wrote last night when I had this sudden burst of motivation out of nowhere. As some of you know, I've been struggling with anxiety issues and it's really been holding me back, so it's kind of crazy that I even wrote updates for my book. But I also just like this chapter because of alex thinking of John as home.