Forced Than Loved ★ Pablo Gavi

₃.₄

★☆★☆★

His Brown Eyes

★☆★☆★

The sharp ring of my alarm pierced through my sleep, dragging me out of the comfort of my dreams. With a groan, I reached over, fumbling blindly until my fingers found my phone, silencing the noise before it could drill further into my brain. The room was still dark, the early morning light barely seeping through the curtains. A deep breath, a slow stretch, and I was up. Today, we had to be at the studio around 11:00 AM, which meant I had time to take it slow, enjoy the morning, and make sure everyone was ready on time, especially the boys, who had a habit of taking forever.

Grabbing my clothes, I shuffled into the bathroom, letting the warm water of the shower wash away any lingering drowsiness. My morning routine was simple, nothing too complicated, nothing extravagant. Dressing casually had always been my thing, especially since we would be changing into our characters' outfits once we got to the set. It saved time, and honestly, I preferred the ease of it.

Once I was done, I made my way to the kitchen, deciding to cook breakfast for everyone. The smell of sizzling eggs quickly filled the space, a comforting warmth settling over me as I moved around, setting everything up. Cooking was therapeutic in its own way, each movement, each step feeling familiar, grounding me in the moment.

I was halfway through when Lilly wandered in, already dressed and surprisingly awake.

"Morning, Cass," she greeted, her voice slightly groggy as she made a beeline for the fridge, grabbing a bottle of orange juice.

I turned to her with a chuckle. "Morning. You're up and ready early."

She playfully rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. "Shocking, I know."

"What are you making?" she asked, stepping closer to peek over my shoulder at the pan.

"Eggs for everyone," I said, tilting the pan slightly to let the eggs shift. "Speaking of which, can you wake up the boys? You know they take forever to get ready."

She laughed, already on her way to the living room. "On it."

As she disappeared, I focused back on breakfast. I set the table, placing the pan in the center alongside a plate of freshly toasted bread. I quickly chopped some vegetables to go with the meal and placed both water and orange juice within reach. The kitchen felt warm and inviting, the kind of space that made mornings feel a little less cruel. Now, all I had to do was wait for the sleepyheads to show up.

Ten minutes later, they finally made an appearance.

I looked up from my phone just as the three of them entered the kitchen. Pablo was the first to sit down, moving a little too quickly to secure the seat right next to me. His movements were subtle, but I caught them, like he needed to be there, as if that spot had already been claimed.

"Morning," he said, his voice softer than usual, laced with something I couldn't quite place.

I smiled, setting my phone aside. "Good morning, todos. I made some eggs."

The words had barely left my mouth before they all started serving themselves, the casual chatter from the night before seamlessly picking up again. We talked about everything and nothing, plans for the day, random thoughts, a few lingering board game grudges from last night. It was effortless, easy.

But throughout breakfast, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

Every so often, I'd glance up, only to find Pablo's eyes already on me. He wasn't even subtle about it. He didn't look away when I caught him. He didn't pretend to be distracted. He just watched, his gaze steady, almost admiring.