NEMOPHILIST || ej.

【 XV 】

Y/N woke up to the soft glow of early morning light filtering through the window, casting a gentle warmth across her face. For a moment, she allowed herself to simply lie there, feeling the softness of the mattress beneath her, her mind slowly rousing from sleep. The usual tension that gripped her every morning seemed to have eased its hold, leaving her feeling strangely calm. Maybe it was the fact that she had access to food and water now, or perhaps it was the simple relief of no longer being bound by handcuffs. Whatever the reason, she felt a flicker of gratitude that, for once, her nerves weren't on edge.

Jack no longer seemed like the immediate threat he once was. He still carried an aura of danger, but there was something more beneath it—something that made him feel less like a looming predator and more like an uneasy ally. At least for now.

With a slow, deliberate stretch, Y/N sat up, her feet touching the cool floor as she reached for a fresh set of clothes. She slid on a sheer undershirt, followed by a soft, f/c cardigan that felt like a small comfort against the harshness of everything else. She pulled on a pair of cargo pants, [color], functional and sturdy, grounding her in the practical reality of her situation. Even the simple act of putting on new socks brought a small sense of normalcy—a rare luxury in the midst of this chaos.

As she adjusted her cardigan, Y/N caught a glimpse of herself in the small, cracked mirror hanging on the wall. Her reflection stared back at her, tired but determined. The new clothes made her feel somewhat refreshed, but she knew better than to let her guard down entirely. Even though she was starting to settle into this strange, unsettling place, a voice in the back of her mind reminded her to stay vigilant. It was too early to trust anything—or anyone—fully.

She stifled a yawn, covering her mouth as she shuffled toward the door. Her movements were slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the brief moment of peace before the day truly began. The hallway was quiet as she stepped out of her room, the floorboards creaking softly beneath her weight.

But as she made her way down the hall, her footsteps faltering slightly, she noticed the odd stillness. The living room, which had been a hub of tension and activity the day before, was now empty. The usual sounds of Natalie and Toby’s banter or Jack’s brooding presence were nowhere to be found. 

Her eyes swept the room, expecting to find one of them lounging on the couch or standing by the window, but there was no one. The emptiness was unsettling, the silence pressing in on her like a tangible force. 

Where were they? Why was the house so quiet? Y/N's mind began to race with possibilities, a flicker of unease curling in her stomach. She took a slow breath, trying to calm herself. They couldn’t have just left her alone, right?

The absence of their presence left her feeling strangely exposed, the fragile sense of security she had been clinging to slipping away. She stood there for a moment, frozen in the doorway, listening to the silence, waiting for something—anything—to break it. But the house remained still, leaving her to wonder what had changed overnight.

Y/N took a moment to absorb the emptiness of the house. The quiet felt unusual, almost unsettling. Her eyes scanned the room for any sign of the others, but there was nothing. She figured they must be out, doing whatever it was they usually did when they left her alone. This was a rare moment of solitude, and she intended to make the most of it.

She wandered into the kitchen, opening the cabinets and pulling out a granola bar. It wasn’t much, but it would do for now. She leaned against the counter, taking small bites, and letting her thoughts drift.