The Leverage

Chapter Two

"Trevor?"

"You can go back to sleep," the gorgeous man in the corner of the room informs me. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," I assure him, forcing myself to sit up. My sore stomach protests, but I manage anyway. Through my wincing, I offer a weak smile. "I don't really want to sleep, anyway."

I don't want to sleep, because I'm afraid my nightmares will come back to me. In my dreams, for the first time ever, Trevor had been the villian. He had been angry that I lost his child. Even though I deserve it, the fear of having my savior so angry at me is haunting. That's a feeling I'm not exactly wanting to relive.

"Well let's get up then," Trevor offers me a small smile back, as he steps up to my bed, peeling back the sheets. I grip his muscular arm as I stand from the bed, and he walks me across the room. He slowly lets go of me, and I realize I can stand on my own without the help of anything.

"I'm recovering, at least," I share, given I hadn't been able to stand like this yesterday. Trevor proudly nods, the smile on his face growing.

"Looking good," he approves. "Just call if you need any help. I'll start on some breakfast."

"Okay," I nod, even though my stomach feels repulsed at the thought of consuming anything but water. But I know I have to eat, and I want to eat, because that's the one thing that will help me return to the way I was before Reno happened. I can't get much stronger if all I am is a collection of weak bones held together by thin and bruised skin.

I grip the wall as I limp the rest of the way into the bathroom, where I brush my teeth and fight through the tangles in my hair until I no longer appear to be frightening. Every time I glance in the mirror, I look slightly better. A little bit more like myself. It may all be in my head, but every minute, I feel myself getting stronger. Mentally, sure, but strength is strength. I'm not as afraid, I'm not as freaked out.

I still have a bit of recovery to overcome, but I'm better. I'm free of Reno, and that's what I needed. The only thing holding me back now is my own weaknesses.

After I'm cleaned up, I call for Trevor. I'm not quite determined enough to make my way all across his room to his dresser where he said he had stored clothes for me.

"You okay?" He asks the moment he peeks his head in the restroom, and I nod, reaching for his arm.

"I want to change clothes," I tell him. "But I don't think I can walk over there yet."

"I've got you," he assures me, as he supports my weight as we make our way to the dresser. "But hey, you're much better than yesterday."

"Thanks," I say, as I release his arm to fall back onto the bed as he pulls out a drawer.

"Sweats?" He guesses, as he shuffles the clothes around.

"Sure," I nod, before grinning at him. "So you were pretty prepared, weren't you?"

"I tried to be," he nods. "I missed you, Ally."

Aw.

"I missed you too, Trev," I smile weakly. So much. Too much.

"Well, um," he clears his throat awkwardly, "here's a sweat suit thing."

"This isn't a sweat suit."

"Technicalities," he shrugs.

"Whatever," I roll my eyes. "I've got it from here."

He nods and excuses himself. I manage to change my clothes and fix my appearance to some degree before I emerge from the bedroom, my weight staggered along the walls as I walk. The living room is still completely bare as it was yesterday, full of only a small, outdated television and single couch. Beyond the tight and boring living room is an open kitchen and dining area, both of which consist of only the essentials needed. A small table with four mismatched chairs, and a kitchen with the most basic appliances. Thick, ugly white refrigerater, an oven that appears to not have been used in decades, and a stove top t;hat seems to be in need of a good cleaning.