When The Stars Align

chapter twelve | morning calls

HE SAID HE'D KEEP his hands to himself, but we end up in a tangle of limbs.

At least, that's what I remember from one of times I woke up in the night. His arm draped around me, holding me close. His legs were close to mine, my hair tickling his face. I wouldn't say it was romantic, but maybe that was me denying my emotions. It shouldn't be romantic.

He has a girlfriend.

This time, when I wake up - not because of a need to throw up, or my body suddenly growing a hundred degrees warmer, or because my chest felt like it was on fire - I'm alone. The night before was a blur in my memory, but I knew it wasn't a fun one for me, or Atticus, or Victoria in the other room, who ended up basically camping out in my room after my third time awake.

I push away my covers, feeling the burning sensation on my face. When I raised my head, the world spun. I wanted to get out of this room and see what was going on, but it seemed like an impossible task.

I've had worse days, I then told myself.

Hauling myself to the bathroom, I'm wary of each step. Just over one month was capable of stripping me of whatever warrior I used to be. I looked like the walking dead when I looked in the mirror. The taste of toothpaste in my mouth made me gag and I had to try my very best not to throw up again. I wasn't even sure if there was anything to throw up. I lost too many fluids in the last ten hours.

My muscles, my bones, every part of me was sore from the night before. Pain seared through my leg with each step but I ignored it to the best of my ability. I had no energy to shower, but I should maybe do that sooner or later.

Still exhausted, I drag myself out of my bedroom. I could hear the chatter from everyone downstairs. The most delectable smell of my childhood filled the hallways. It was more like my nose led the rest of my body to my destination.

Victoria greeted me with a smile as I entered through the doorway. She immediately rushed over, placing her hand against my forehead. It makes that she's started to act more like our mother, with kids of her own, but everything is just... weird.

"Still a fever," she muttered, more to herself. "It's shocking you were able to drag yourself out of bed, I expected you to be passed out for most of the day. You're just in time for lunch, if you can stomach it."

"We have soup!" Camden exclaimed, holding up his spoon. The kids broke out into a small chorus of them screaming the word "soup", which was kind of cute, but annoying at the same time. Lionel and Isadora looked the their younger siblings, shaking their heads, Leo returning to the book he was reading after. I ruffled the Camden's hair as I slid into my chair.

Sophia looked well rested, carrying Kaden in her arms. I didn't notice last night, but the little boy managed to hit his head somewhere, a bump forming on his forehead. He didn't seem concerned about it, though. His mother gave me a kinder smile than what she gave me yesterday. "It must've been a tough night for you. If you need anything, let us know."

Her kindness throws me off, leaving me not knowing what to say. She lets out a small laugh as she continues to feed Kaden. Maybe Lysander told her to be nicer. Or maybe she just warmed up in the span of a couple days. Or hours.

Atticus limps into the dining room, his hair a mess. I'm not where he just was - maybe just in the washroom. He gives me a kind smile as he slips into the seat across from me, reaching for a plate. "I'm starving, Vic. What's on the menu? Please feed me."

She gives me a small smirk. "I'm only responsible for feeding six people at this table, excluding myself, Atticus."

"Yeah, your five kids and me, obviously."