ᴍʏ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ✩ ᴛᴢ11

THIRTY

penelope

my face kisses the toilet bowl as everything i've eaten in the past twelve hours makes a reappearance in the worst way possible. it's only five am and i mentally curse every time i feel myself about to be sick again because even though trevor is usually a heavy sleeper, the demonic sounds coming from the bathroom is enough to wake anyone up.

i let out a miserable moan but sigh when i hear no evidence of trevor being awake. i exhale in relief. that just triggers another horrific round of vomiting to occur. at least he's still asleep. that is until i feel my hair being pulled back and nimble fingers running up and down my spine.

i don't have time to feel embarrassed or mad. my mind is preoccupied on other things at the moment. trevor doesn't seem to mind. he's sitting behind me at five am, holding my hair while i vomit into his toilet, trying to soothe me with no complaints.

"p, you gotta be done there can't be anything left at this point."

i sit back on the tiled floor, the coolness hushing my hot skin. my baby hairs are stuck to my forehead with sweat. i feel like a hot mess. except not hot. i'm just a mess.

"good morning." trevor lazily smiles when i lean back against him.

i nod sarcastically. "for you."

he chuckles, his arms capturing me in a hug from behind. i pat his hands, thanking him for being such a trooper. i start to stand up, trevor following.

"you amaze me woman," he smiles. "even at five in the morning, after violently puking you can still be a little ball of piss and vinegar."

i narrow my eyes at him. not something i really want to hear at five in the morning after violently puking. i push him out of the way, grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste out of the cabinet. his eyes widen but his brows stitch together.

"what are you doing?" he asks.

"getting ready for work." i look at him like he's stupid.

"you can't go to work today, you were just throwing up!"

i sigh. he's got a lot of learning to do. "i'm pregnant trevor, that's normal."

"w-well, what if you get sick at work? i'm calling you in, you're not going-"

i grab his wrist. "stop,"

it takes a bit of convincing that i'm actually okay and my nausea will subside by lunch. he's still not fully convinced but, he's letting me go anyway because i threatened to throw his lucky charms away because the thought of them make me sick.

"okay! okay! don't bring my cereal into this." trevor rushes to the kitchen and pulls the cereal box to his chest, hugging it closely.

i can't help but laugh. he's a child stuck in a grown man's body i'm convinced. he laughs back, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. it makes me gag when i see the tiny multicolored marshmallows make their way into the bowl. at least trevor thinks they're delicious.

he's crunching on his lucky charms, sitting at the island in the kitchen as i fill my water bottle with ice. i'm scrambling to find something to eat that one, won't make me sick, and two will be easy enough for me to grab on the go as my day is packed full.

"hey p?" trevor says, mouth full of cereal.

"yes trevor." it comes out as a statement rather than a question.

"you know, i was just thinking-since we're a family now-"

family? is that how he see's this? he see's our situation as a family situation? anxiety bubbles in my chest, a familiar tightness in my throat.