"𝐖𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐞."
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Alyssa, Alessandro and Alessio Smith have gone through hell.
They've been fighting to survive from the moment they'd first opened their eyes. Six...
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"SLEEP WELL?" ALE asks with a playfully affectionate tone as he shuffles me around, causing me to end up squished sideways between him and San, finally on the mattress and not his body anymore.
I respond with that exact joyous expression I'd harbored when I'd awoken last night, but couldn't show them then, nodding my head before I hide my face in the crook of his neck. I don't mention that I hadn't slept through.
His chest vibrates as he chuckles lowly, one hand weaving itself into my hair. From behind, San's arm, which had fallen off in the process of Ale moving me, returns to my waist. It pulls me into a warm chest, leaving just enough distance to not hurt the wounds still lining my back.
I look toward the window, noticing how bright it had become out already. It's saturday now. Two days of rest lay ahead of us. And after the week we've had, I think we're in great need of such. And I didn't think I'd ever hear myself saying this but, a part of me is also oddly relieved that we don't have to leave the house for that same time span.
I think... for the first time in my life, I dread going to school more than coming home.
('Home' being relative.)
As afraid of these men as I am, they haven't actually physically hurt us yet. Both times we'd gotten hurt had happened in school.
But those incidents aren't the only reason causing this unsettling switch-up to my feelings regarding the whole going-to-school and coming-home fiasco. Additionally, there's that atmosphere in that school that I just can't get used to no matter how hard I try. It's not just its cleanliness, which contrasts so starkly with the dirty feeling I can still feel clinging to my form even though we're wearing fresh clothes and can shower to our heart's desire now, or the indefinite gap of knowledge between these elitist students and us, acquired by the absolute opposites of schools we'd grown up in. But it's this looming atmosphere that hangs over the school much like the dreadful cloud that'd followed us on our way up the creaky staircase back in the basement.
An atmosphere that suggests a threat but can't visibly pinpoint one. An anticipatory and simultaneously apprehensive one.
And god, do I hate how suffocating it feels to stand underneath it.
The disappointed feeling from yesterday returns as I recall what has caused such paranoid cloud in the first place.
"What are you thinking about?" San murmurs from where he's propped his cheek onto my shoulder suddenly, startling me from my thoughts as he peeks down at me from above. His right pointer finger has taken to drawing little circles into my covered skin, his arm putting that comforting pressure onto the heating pad again. The heat hasn't lessened one bit since last evening, but I'm sure it will start to in a bit.
