Everything with you

Part 55

Justin

The soft morning light filtered through the blinds, painting golden lines across Emma's bare shoulder. I lay beside her, my head propped on one hand, studying the way her chest rose and fell in steady rhythm. The night before had been chaos—sharp words, fiery tempers, and months of hurt boiling over until we were screaming at each other. Then somehow, between the anger and the sorrow, we had crashed into each other, lips desperate, hands clutching, and all that pain had melted into something raw and undeniable.

Now, in the morning stillness, the air felt fragile, like a single wrong move could shatter the illusion that last night meant something more.

A knock at the door jolted me. My heart lurched.

"Justin! Get up, I'm hungry!" Joanna called from the hallway.

Emma stirred beside me, groaning softly before pulling the sheets over her head. I chuckled under my breath before slipping out of bed, careful not to let the movement disturb her too much.

"I'll be down in a sec," I called back finally, pulling on a pair of shorts. I turned back to Emma, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

"Take your time," I murmured before stepping out into the hall and shutting the door behind me.

By the time I reached the kitchen, Joanna was already perched at the counter, scrolling through her phone. Her long hair was still tangled from sleep, and she was wrapped in a hoodie that was way too big for her.

"You're slow," she said without looking up.

"Good morning to you too," I muttered, grabbing a frying pan. "Pancakes or eggs?"

"Both."

I smirked but didn't argue, cracking eggs into a bowl. The rhythmic whisking was soothing, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions still settling in my chest. I wasn't sure what last night had meant for Emma and me. Was it closure? A mistake? A second chance? I had no idea. But right now, I had breakfast to make and a sister to feed.

Footsteps creaked on the stairs. My grip tightened on the spatula, knowing exactly what was coming.

Emma appeared in the doorway, swimming in my oversized t-shirt and a pair of my sweatpants that barely clung to her waist. Her lips were slightly swollen from our activities last night , her hair messy, and her face flushed with that just-woke-up softness. She froze when she saw Joanna sitting at the counter, wide-eyed. Just the sight of her made my heart race.

Joanna looked up from her phone, eyes flicking from Emma to me and back again. She blinked once. Then twice. And then—

"Did you sleep here?" she asked flatly before shoving a forkful of pancake into her mouth, barely reacting as she resumed scrolling.

Emma's face went bright red. I stifled a laugh, turning back to the stove as I flipped the eggs.

"Uh..." Emma stammered, glancing at him for help.

Joanna shrugged. "Cool," she said, still not looking up from her phone. "Can I have syrup?"

I finally let out the laugh I'd been holding. Emma, face still burning, made her way to the coffee pot, mumbling something about caffeine. I slid a plate of pancakes toward Joanna, shaking my head. My little sister had a way of making even the most awkward situations seem normal.

As Emma settled into the seat beside Joanna, stealing a bite of pancake when she thought no one was looking, I exhaled. Last night had been a whirlwind, but somehow, this morning felt... right.

Maybe it wasn't a mistake after all.

Joanna, seemingly unfazed by the situation, turned to Emma. "So, did you think about what I said last night? About dance? I was looking up some of the routines you told me about. They're insane!"