Garrix & Me (Martin Garrix Fanfiction)

Chapter 43

Late update, I'm sorry! Enjoy the chapter x

Zoe's POV

When I woke up this morning, I was in Martin's room. I don't even remember falling asleep there last night. I'm just glad he didn't say anything when we woke up. It was normal, in a strange sort of way. Maybe it's because we've come a long way since we first met. Things have definitely changed between us, that's for sure. For the better, or for worse, I still can't decide. Something tells me it's for the worst. Nothing involving Martin can ever end in a good way.

It wasn't awkward, waking up next to him. It wasn't as awkward as it should be, that is. I felt calmer than I have felt in weeks. And safe. I don't know why it bothers me that I feel safe around him because it shouldn't. I just don't think I've ever felt safe around anyone except my dad.

And look at him now.

I make my way downstairs to the kitchen to find my mother flitting around the kitchen, pouring hot water into cups, flipping pancakes and simultaneously cleaning the counter as she does it. Mothers, robots, it's pretty much the same thing.

"Morning," she says, yawning slightly.

I walk past her to grab a glass of water and catch a glance of her face. She looks tired, her eyes are darkly rimmed and swollen because of all the crying. She looks paler than usual and there is no color in her cheeks. She looks...old.

My stomach turns at the sight of my father appearing in the doorway; his eyes still red. The uneasy, awkward feeling I'm starting to get around them is bothering me so much that I feel as if I could burst. I want to shout at them. I want to shake them both by the shoulders and force them to tell me what the hell is going wrong here, because they're the ones that taught me that every problem has a solution.

"Morning, Zo," he says tiredly, sounding as old as my mother looks.

I nod with a small smile and dodge him, hurrying quickly out of the kitchen. I know I'll have to face them at some point and I'm ready to hear whatever explanation they have. However, I still feel awkward and some part of me wants to put it off a while longer. I don't know what to think, I guess. I'm ready for anything except divorce. That cannot and will not happen.

I make my way back up the stairs, with my glass of water, and head straight to my old bedroom. It's exactly as I'd left it. It's cloudy outside and a dull morning light pours weakly through the curtains, casting a light blue filter over the room. I settle onto the bed, eventually crawling under the covers. I'm exhausted. Lately, that's all I've been. Just a week ago, I was in a hospital with a concussion. Everything in my life is going on so fast that I'm struggling to keep up.

And Martin. God, I don't know what's going on. I really don't. We keep going back and forth, and nothing's actually happening. I don't know what I expect to happen but maybe we'd actually be better friends by now. Which we aren't because he still treats me like crap. Yet at the same time, it's as if he does care because he does all the little things like last night, he offered to come with. And last week, he changed the sheets. And he opened up a little about his past too. And as great as all of that is, I still think he doesn't trust me or fully care. Or care as much as he should. He doesn't though and that's what confuses me. This is one of the reasons why I try to ignore thinking and overthinking about anything to do with him. It just leads to too much confusion, which I don't have the energy to deal with anymore.

Just as I sigh and turn over to face the window , there's a knock on my door. It's Martin. He saunters in as if he owns the place and throws himself on the bed beside me. I jerk away, looking at him with a look that, in words means, "What the hell are you doing?".