7- Home Sweet Home

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This chapter is dedicated to @fadeawayx for the beautiful cover you see. Thanks and sorry it took so long.

Anyways while I'm here. Hope you enjoy the story. Monday as promised.

*disclaimer
THERE WILL BE VIOLENCE IN THE END.
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I'm in a room. The first words that pop out of my head when I wake up the next morning.

My head hurts, the second thing that comes into mind. It hurts a lot. I look down and realize I'm still wearing the clothes from last night. How foolish of me.

I look at my surroundings familiar with the Coopers guest room. Still like I remembered. After stretching my joints and realizing that my headache was from the massive take of alcohol I went to the kitchen.

Upon reaching the kitchen I found a shirtless Nate. I stopped in my tracks for a moment analyzing if this was just my headache making me dream things. Nope, still shirtless.

He suddenly turned towards me his green eyes shimmering in the morning sun. "Good morning," he said holding a up of coffee in his hands.

"You achieved your dream of having abs," I said standing by the kitchen opening. He always said he would when we were younger.

'Why was I looking at his stomach?' I asked myself not understanding my own actions.

"Come on Bea," he said for the first time since he began talking to me, using my nickname. His nickname.

I looked up from the floor into his green eyes confused. "What made you begin to call me Bea again?" I asked as I entered the kitchen.

Nates smile suddenly dropped. "You don't remember last night," he said more than asked.

I took a seat on one of the stools places by the island in the kitchen. "I don't. My head hurts though. A lot. Was there something I was suppose to remember?" I asked him.

"No. Nothing important, and what you are experiencing my dear friend is called a hangover. You drank a lot of alcohol last night. Here," he said giving me a plate of eggs, bacon, grits, and sausage. With orange juice on the side.

I looked at the food in confusion. No one has ever made me food before. I didn't even know this was possible. "Is this for me?" I ask.

"Yeah. I know how brutal hangovers are. But yours seems faint," he says sitting on the chair in front of me.

"No my head does hurt a lot. But my parents taught me to not complain about the-" I stopped abruptly not finishing my sentence.

"Don't you ever dare tell anyone about this."

Both my parents voices echoed through my mind.

"Bea are you okay?" Nate asked me a concerned look on his face.

"I'm fine," I replied eating the food in front of me. It was odd eating someone else's food. I liked it though.

Nate moved from his seat and now sat right next to me looking at me but I refused to look at him. I finally turned towards him when my eye started to twitch from not looking.

"Why did your parents stop hitting you? If you don't mind me asking."

"I do mind you asking. I'm not allowed to talk about it," I said drinking orange juice.

"Come on Bea, it's me, Nate."

I looked him in the eyes controlling my eyes not to wonder south of his eyes. "You haven't been Nate for three years," I remind him. I was all alone. Freshman, sophomore, and now junior year.

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