I never thought that I'd think a person was refreshing, and I'm not talking about that, 'I just took a drink of cold water after playing outside all day long' type of refreshing.
I'm talking about the feeling of fresh bedroom sheets that hug you in...
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Ashton's pov
The morning after I became Joliè's girlfriend was spent convincing myself I'd done the right thing. The date itself was perfect, and the company was riveting. The food was delicious, and the dancing was romantic, but I couldn't help feeling like I was in over my head. I was spiraling deep into my mind.
It's not that I wasn't happy to finally be with her, or ecstatic at the idea of a fresh start. No, those things were good, great even, because underneath it all, I was elated. I couldn't wrap my own mind around the fact that I'd actually done something impulsively while being fully on my meds.
I felt a different sense of emotion; it wasn't quite good nor was it bad. It was titillating in a way that made me feel like I don't have to be crazy to experience new things.
I'd always found I was at my most independent when I was in a manic state. No pressure, and no expectations that my brain can overanalyze over and over. It gave a sense of freedom away from the clarity my medicine provides me. It allows me to be creative and free-flowing in ways that being medicated prevents me from. Being on my meds wasn't bad, but it created order in a way that I craved. However, I didn't know if the craving was superficially caused by knowing they help me stay sane and keep my ticks from creating certain disturbances.
This morning was to be the start of getting back into my routine. I needed to get up early, considering I spent the last six weeks sleeping in late. So I got up at five am, dressed for a run, which was three-and-a-half miles walking around the city. Then I showered, set out my clothes for the day, and was off to make breakfast. My plans were disrupted when I realised my fridge was empty.
I went to the shop, texting Rell and Daja on my way. I told them their presence was needed for a family meeting, and brunch was at ten thirty. Whether they could come or not was a different story, but I left the chat too quickly to see any responses.
Once back home, I whipped up some omelets with hash browns for the menu. Mine was filled with spinach, tomatoes, and bacon. Daja's was set up with brisket, cheese, and salsa. Then Rell's was filled with steak, green onion, potatoes, and avocado. I pulled out a bottle of champagne, cranberry juice, and three flutes, then set them on the table by each plate. Only after everything was set up did I make sure they were actually coming.
Once confirmed, I looked over the kitchen, the living room, and the bar again. It was really nice to be home; everything felt normal and in its place. My home felt calm, and the air was still. For a moment, everything was peaceful, then the doorbell rang. My pulse rose while my heart began to pound from the unexpected commotion.
Confusion hit me; the only person who could be here at this hour was either Joliè or Sutton. Jo was definitely not going to be here, so that left only Sutton, who should be with her girlfriend over in the city. I quickly went to answer the door, where I was met with a large bouquet and a delivery woman hidden just behind.
