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It was strange, waking up in a room that was not mine and feeling safer than I have, in well, my entire life, I guess.

I found myself rolling over in the bed and snuggling deeper, even as my body ached and groaned with my actions. I knew what needed to be done, but I still found myself trying to go back to sleep, to escape my reality into the next one.

But then I heard the guys moving around, something delicious wafted under the door of the room and my stomach protested my laziness. I ignored it, until I heard Dr. Sean Green's voice above all of the others as he proclaimed her wasn't THAT bad of a cook.

This was followed by laughter, and it all just seemed so... inviting.

I made myself sit up in bed, stifling a groan, and forced my legs off the bed, to the floor. Once I was standing, my feet worked on their own accord. I found myself in a bathroom, and when I was finished with the toilet, washing my hands, I glanced at the mirror.

There was no blood on my face, but my nose and lip were swollen and slightly bruised. There was blood on the collar of my shirt, and I could see a bruise poking out. I took the shirt off, dropping it to the ground and gave myself a once over in the mirror.

Then I turned away, turned on the shower, and stepped inside. It was a little foreign, showering in Nathan's shower. For one, it took me a second to get the temperature right, and then a few minutes to convince myself he wouldn't mind my use of his soaps.

After I did those things, I was able to at least relax. I took the longest shower to date, without fear of my mother turning the washer on with the water settings to full cold, or full hot, either one ruining my shower in a different way. Or any of her other creative antics.

When I was through, I felt like myself again. My body ached, but other than how it got to be sore, it wasn't new. I could handle it. As I stepped out of the shower, I realized one of them had come into the bathroom during my shower, as there was a towel with a small pile of clothes on top.

I moved the clothes aside without looking and wrapped myself up in the towel. On Nathan's sink was a hair brush, and I hoped he wouldn't mind my use of it. It was weird, feeling free to make use of things that weren't mine, even before asking permission. But my brain was convinced that these actions were okay.

I turned my attention back to the clothes, confused to find everything looking new and soft and comfortable... and more importantly, girl clothes in my sizes and style. It was a pair of modest shorts and a t-shirt, with socks and a brand new pair of pink converse with white hearts all over them.

I put the clothes on reluctantly, unsure about how they got my sizes, or knew what I preferred to wear so well. Perhaps it had been a fluke, and they'd randomly gotten things that happened to be perfect.

I finished putting on everything, and only then did I spot the baseball cap. The hat itself wasn't my style, but when I saw the inscription, hot pink against the baby pink material of the hat, my soul froze over.

There, in a beautiful hand stitched script, was the word, or the nickname, Trouble.

G A B R I E L

Sally.

That mother fucker.

I guess it wasn't entirely Silas' fault that I didn't have her name right, but damn. Mr. Blackbourne had grown frustrated, and apparently Kota too, with the fact that I still had no phone. He stormed to his room when we arrived at his place and offered me a phone from his back up selection.

Phones that weren't completely broken, but that weren't up to his code of perfection. For example, the phone he handed me had lost full function of the microphone when making calls. It sounded like he was underwater half the time, but the other half it seemed to have no problems.

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