Insomnia

Knockout // Twenty-Six

Dallas, plentiful groceries in hand, opened the door to Evie's apartment. "Hey, Eve, your front door's unlock- shit!"

He nearly tripped over a chair.

He looked around at the room. "What the hell..."

The furniture was scattered everywhere. Evie was sitting on the balcony in the cold, wrapped up in an oversized sweater.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he muttered, placing the groceries on a random chair and weaving in and out of furniture to get to the balcony door. She'd been crying again. He pulled open the glass door and sat in one of the frozen metal chairs.

"Did you really feel the need to redecorate?" Dallas asks. It'd been three weeks. She looked sickly, pale. He caught sight of her legs. She was absolutely covered in aging bruises.

"Sleepwalking again." She murmured. "Every time I sleep," she stared down at her palms, "I wake up in some place new, covered in new bruises."

He finished the thought, looking at her cold cup of coffee. Evie didn't drink coffee. "So now you just don't sleep."

"The furniture's suppose to wake me up when I bump into it, but I keep finding ways around it." She told him.

He stood. "C'mon. Get up." Dallas pulled on her arm. "You're going to bed and I'm going to watch over you. Then, you need a dress for the wedding. Dante's joining, as it was his idea, then he's taking the night shift."

She sniffled and looked up at him, "I couldn't ask-"

"I'm not asking. I'm telling." He pulled her inside. "Oh my God, Eve. Holy shit. It's almost like you have people who care about you." He drawled sarcastically.

She fought a painful smile.

*

Dante was sprawled across the couch, clad in a leather jacket and torn-all-to-hell jeans. With a lollipop in his mouth? Dallas was leaning against that same couch, arms crossed over a white shirt.

It'd been a long time since she went shopping, but her bank account was now denser than osmium, thanks to Cade. She felt weird showing Dante and Dallas dress choices, but they were certainly full of honest male opinions.

You're going to crash a wedding, Dante had said, you might as well look like a knockout doing it.

And Dallas simply nodded in agreement.

Evie walked out in a short, light blue number.

She was awarded a head shake from Dallas and a twirling hand gesture from Dante indicating that she needed to go back into the dressing room.

This happened five or six times, with mostly notes of disagreement or boredom with everything she tried on.

Finally, there was only one thing left. Something the boys had chosen, not her. She didn't feel confident enough to even try it on, but it was twenty times different than everything else the boys had rejected.

Blood red. Cade's favorite color. Long sleeves, cut to the bottom of her sternum in the front, her hips in the back, and up to her thigh on the leg. The red silk stirred around her feet as she walked. She caught herself in the mirror and swallowed hard. It actually... She actually... Evie smiled at herself gently, testing one after weeks of a solidified frown.

She stepped out timidly to show them, and caught a hard stare from a passerby. Quickly, she wanted to hide, thinking that he was staring because she didn't look good in it.

"God be damned." Dante muttered, and then she realized her mistake. He wasn't staring because she was unattractive. Quite the opposite.

Dallas had to blink a few times. "Holy shit."