The momentary sleep I had fallen into while waiting for Sabrina's arrival was ultimately disturbed the moment she tapped me awake. The time I spent unconscious was obviously not long enough, my hazy vision and squinted eyes being proof of that. However I hadn't realized how much my sense of placement was off because last I remember, I fell asleep with my head on the kitchen counter.
Sabrina was currently crisscrossed across from me on top of her comforter, the two of us now in her room upstairs. From what I could tell, she seemed nervous, a feeling that was extremely foreign for her. She always held her head up high, basically radiating confidence from each and every one of her pores. Currently, that wasn't the case. The girl in front of me wasn't the extroverted girl I know.
Instead she was replaced with a small girl who bit continually at her nimble finger tips, the nail of each finger bitten off because of the nervous tack tick. Her eyes were glued to our crossed legs, every now and then switching from the ground and me.
It only took a few more moments for me to fully come back to comprehension and consciousness, Sabrina sitting up a little straighter when she realized my sensibility. The skin of her nails was fully torn off by the time she begin speaking.
By the time Sabrina speaks, the words come out far to rushed, each one jumbling over the other. But because I speak 'Sabrina', I was able to make out the disoriented apology.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my brother."
Despite the apology she just rambled out, for whatever reason, my mind was still focused elsewhere.
"How'd I get upstairs?"
My comment is mumbled, more so to myself then the girl across from me, but the sound still manages to catch Sabrina's attention. My off track mind and thoughts must have caught her off guard, her face scrunching up slightly and somewhat resembling a chipmunk, as well as earning a small laugh.
"You're more concerned with how you got up her rather than me apologizing" Sabrina sighs, a small tugging at the corner of her lips, highlighting the fact that she was teasing, despite the disagreement at hand. "But I don't expect any less from you, you aren't one for seriousness" she continues, this time a small laugh cracking through the tension of the room.
I can't help the small snicker that comes from my own lips, our laughs perfectly demonstrating Sabrina and I's inability to focus in a serious situation, and overall strength of our relationship.
I shrug off her comment, the smile on our faces disintegrating any anger the two of us held for one another for the past few hours. "Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated sometimes", I nod off, motioning between us in continuation, "why be serious when you can be anything but".
My small deceleration earns another small smile, before Sabrina starts off again, answering my previous question. "Harry brought you up about half an hour ago. You were dead asleep on the counter downstairs when I got home" she explains, my face heating up at the thought of it. "I felt bad just barging in and waking you up so we could talk this out" she motions a hand between us in example, "so I figured I'd force my brother to bring you up so you could sleep a little longer".
Before I can manage to come up with a way of thanks for her gesture, she manages to embarrass me a bit more.
"You should have seen yourself" she laughs, her dimple popping while recalling the memory, "he had to carry you up bridal style and your head was hanging off the side of his arm. Looked like he was carrying a dead body. Your eyes were rolled back and everything. If you weren't snoring so much I would of actually thought you were dead."
"Sabrina!" I screech, most likely waking any sleeping person in the house with the pitch of it, slapping at her arm in embarrassment. "You know I'm an ugly sleepier!"
"It's just Harry calm down" she insists, still unable to contain the laughter that was begging to burst, her face flushed from trying to hide it for my sake.
"It's just Harry", I mimic, "my hot older billionaire CEO brother".
"I wouldn't call him hot".
"But you would call him your older billionaire CEO brother".
With that last comment, the easiness of the atmosphere disappears.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I mumble to her, our eyes connecting momentarily before she pulls her gaze to focus elsewhere. "Did you just not trust me?"
"Of course I trust you, I wanted to tell you all along" she barks back, the tone surprising me slightly. "I wanted to tell you so bad. Hiding you from my brother for so long and always having to work around his schedule was so much work" she continues on, her tone softer now. "Sneaking you in and out of here without the both of you knowing was so freaking stressful, you have no idea".
Well of course I had no idea. How was I supposed to know you had some mission impossible situation going on in your house, keeping you brother on one end and your best friend on the other.
"But I didn't have a choice. Telling you threatened Harry's position in the company. People aren't supposed to know I exist" Sabrina mutters, the bitterness in her tone clear. Her final sentence strikes at my heart slightly, not able to quite understand why Sabrina had to hide herself or her brother from everyone.
"I don't understand", I mutter, my brows pulling down in confusion and hands picking at the loose strands of her comforter.
"In the business world, Sabrina Styles doesn't exist. Sometimes to Harry, I don't exist. There's only Sabrina Giraldez, and even she has to stay hidden".
The last sentence is said so lowly I barely grasp it, the sound of it tearing at my heart as she says so. The thought of having to stay hidden, and even going by a fake last name, hurts, and I can only imagine how it affects the girl across from me.
"Sabrina I'm so sorry" I mutter, the lowness of my voice matching her own.
"It's not your fault" she shrugs off, once again picking at the broken skin of her fingernails. "If anything I should be sorry for keeping it from you."
Her apology has me instantly shaking my head, my hands going up to grasp her own, in hopes to keep her from breaking any more skin with her nervous habit. The gesture causes Sabrinas head to raise from the bed, and up towards me.
"No I understand" I reassure her as much as I can, "Of course I'm hurt that you hide that for so long" I explain, staring back at her, taking notice of her glazed over eyes. "But not hurt because you kept it from me. The fact that you have to live like that".
By the way her eyes widen slightly, I can tell that my words take off guard, expecting some sort of anger from her admittance and instead receiving reassurance.
"You're really not mad at me?" She questions, still taken aback my previous words of assistance.
"No I'm not mad", shaking my head in further encouragement and comfort. "If anything I mad at Harry for burdening you with this for so long".
"You have no idea", she mumbles, pulling in slightly to wrap her arms around me in some way to gain comfort. Her words cause a sting at my heart, the idea of knowing so little about how much pressure her older brother puts on her for staying away from watching eyes.
But the lingering feeling of being in the dark is still overwhelming. I know more than I did just hours, even minutes, ago. Yet, I feel as if not even half of her new found secret life has been shared.
"Anything else I should know", I joke, hoping to pull at least a little more information from her without the obvious pressure. A part of me is dying to have her lay it all out in front of me now, but the larger portion of me knows she won't.
The obvious hesitation on her face only confirms my suspicions, but her answer says other words. "Nothing else you need to know right now", the double meaning of her answer obvious to the both of us, but I don't push at her anymore.
"Except", she laughs, turning her back to me momentarily to grab her phone from the night stand beside her, "that I might have taken a picture of Harry carrying you upstairs."
"NO" I screech, my worries surrounding her secrets quickly changing focus to deleting any evidence of my captured embarrassment.
She turns her screen to face me, the brightness of it taking me off guard before my eyes manage to adjust. When the light manages to settle, her camera rolls reveals a number of photographs of a sleeping me.
Illuminated on the screen is a number of photos showing a, what looks to be, pissed off Harry and a dead asleep Grace.
Wait a minute.
Harry's touching me.
On purpose.
HOLY SHIT.
And I look like I was ran over by a truck.
My mouth is gapped wide open, and by what Sabrina mentioned earlier, I'm assuming I was snoring pretty audibly. My hair covers a majority of my face and a few pieces find a way into my mouth. My head is hanging off the side of Harry's arm, unsupported, the position definitely not looking comfortable.
The fact that I didn't wake up while this all happened is shocking, yet again though, I am a pretty heavy sleepier.
The actual image of me sleeping leaves no possible way for my imagination to make the occurrence any less embarrassing, the image proving exactly how humiliating it was while I was unconscious.
First I trap myself to a car with a seat belt, next I fall dead asleep in the most embarrassing way possible, what the hell is next.
I instantly push the screen away from my view, bringing up my hands to cover my face in embarrassment, a common tactic I use to convince myself that if I can't see it then it didn't happen.
"I hate you" I grumble from beneath my cover.
Sabrina's laugh ripples through the room and a sing so "No you don't" is what I receive in response. She pulls the phone back to her own view, instantly tapping away at her the screen until my own phone bings. Grabbing at it from my side I turn it over to look at the incoming messages
*1 new message from Chiquitita*
Tapping on the message from Sabrina, my phone instantly unlocks, sending me straight to the conversation and the image she had just shown me on her own phone, showing up on mine.
Along with another number.
"Sabrina who else did you send this to?" I question immediately, dread overcoming my body with the only other assumption I have of who it could be.
"My brother".
"SABRINA".