Toughen Up. (Max x Reader)

-6-

3rd Person

"Maxwell, wake up," A voice woke Max up, making him grumble and roll over.

"Go away David, it's too early," He snuggled back into his crappy pillow, falling back into a light doze. Whoever told him to get up yanked away his blankets, making him sit up angrily.

"Seriously David?" He wiped away the sleep from his eyes and looked around, letting his eyes adjust to the light, "Since when was breakfast this early?"

He looked at the figure standing next to the bed, trying to figure out why they looked shorter then David.

"What?" The voice questioned, tilting their head. Max tried to think back to the night before, because nothing was making sense. Why was the bed crappier than before? Why was David shorter and waking him up so damn early?

"You... You have no idea what's going on do you?" They said, humour lightening their tone. Max felt the cool air brush his legs, looking down and seeing shorts instead of jeans. Ok, this was just ridiculous.

He sat there for a few seconds, looking up at the figure in front of him. His eyes finally adjusted, and his brain started to work again. It was YN in front of him, laughing slightly to herself. His eyes widened as he thought back to the night prior.

Did he seriously hug her? Oh shit...

"C'mon, get up and fix your hair," She began, laughing a bit. Why did she not seem fazed by what happened? "Then meet me at outside the mess hall. Training is in a few minutes."

She walked outside, closing up the tent behind her to leave Max to himself.

Wasn't this the second time he had been left to his own thoughts? I wonder if she realised how dark his thoughts could get.

Oh wait, she probably did. I mean, he did have a nightmare last night, and that doesn't really mean that his thoughts are all fine and dandy.

Who's thoughts are fine though? Everyone thinks about something terrible once in a while, right?

I mean, maybe not David, but he doesn't count.

Max sighed deeply and combed his hair back with his hands. He fixed his stupid badge sash thing or whatever the fuck the Woodscouts called it, and stood up.

He stretched and was about to walk over to his coffee maker to get a cuppa, when he realised that he didn't have a coffee maker.

Groaning he rubbed his left eye while pushing away the tent flaps.

The early morning light hurt his eyes as he tried to remember where the mess hall was.

Walking in the direction he assumed was the way to the mess hall, he saw multiple campers already up and jogging in small packs. It was slightly unsettling, Max was so used to the quiet, dreary mornings at Camp Campbell.

He kind of missed walking around with a cup of warm coffee and a hand in his hoodie pocket, seeing all of the campers at their activities. Nerris would be setting up a game of Dungeons and Dragons, Preston would be sorting out his stupid theatre outfits.

Max continued walking whilst thinking about his friends. He kinda felt... Lonely.

I mean, of course he would never, ever tell them that he missed them. That would be stupid, and he'd sound like a pussy or something.

He looked up from his shoes and tried to focus on where he was going. He walked up to a building that kind of looked like what he remembered the mess hall to be.

It didn't seem like the right building, but Max just kinda shrugged and went right on in.

Pushing open the door he entered a room that seemed like an office of types. There was a chalkboard to one side, scribbles covering it, talking about some popcorn sale or something. Behind the desk on the wall was a calendar with a blurry picture of the side of Gwen's face.