Ice.

Chapter Thirty-Seven.

Avery

Today's the day.

Not going to lie. I'm shitting bricks.

My stomach is in knots as I'm sitting on the floor of the hotel room in front of the mirror, doing my makeup. I have some music playing to try and calm me down while Finn is at the gym with Casey and Jack, the empty room we've only been in for a few days feeling more and more homely as we live in here.

The sun is shining in from the window yet it makes that eerie feeling still linger inside me. I'm trying to focus on the eyelashes I'm gluing to my face but it's proving difficult since my hands won't stop shaking.

I woke up before Finn this morning, the bliss of being in his arms overpowering the thoughts about what's coming this afternoon. But when I turned over to face him and saw that deep frown on his lips as well as the crease between his brows, I knew he was even stressed in his sleep.

We stayed in the bath for hours last night, until the water was freezing and we were shriveled like pruned old people. But we were so comfortable laying in there, going through periods of talking or just staying quiet in each others arms. I like to think it made him relax a bit and not have that unbearable worry drown him.

He was awake most of the night, I could feel him twisting and turning as his mind was unkind to him. I had woken up to him out of bed at around 2 and I felt my gut churn when I saw the bathroom light on, but the door not fully closed. I tried to keep my steps quiet as I approached, not wanting to walk in on him actually using the bathroom, but I had a feeling he wasn't.

I was right, and found him gripping the edge of the counter tightly with his head hung low. The muscles on his back were as tense as I had ever seen and his knuckles were white from the hold he had on the sink.

I was unsure how to approach him at first, not wanting to startle him. But then I decided on just going and jumping up on the counter to sit next to him. He was glaring into the sink so hard that I thought there was going to be holes in the marble.

He didn't look up at me when I did, he just shut his eyes as his head dropped even more. I knew he didn't want me to tell him everything was going to be okay, or that everything that's going to happen would happen for a reason. I just needed to be there with him, physically. So, that's what I did. I put my hand on his and just sat with him, leaning my back against the mirror with the cold counter under my legs and held his hand while he stood there.

My eyes were trained on him because if they weren't, they would of closed with how tired I was. He must of realized that I was dozing off because after at least an hour, he finally looked up at me. He had dark circles under his eyes, which were a little glassy with fatigue and anxiety. He bit his lip as he stood up straight and moved in front of me, putting his hands on my legs to pull me to the edge of the counter. "Come on, baby. Let's go to sleep."

I gave him a lazy and tired smile, "But I just warmed up the counter."

That managed to crack a smile out of him as he shook his head, but then urged me to get down. When we got back into bed, it took everything in me not to just pass out. But I stayed awake and placed as many sweet and reassuring kisses on his face and neck, trying to get coax him into at least an hour of sleep.

It worked, thank God, and light snores finally started falling from his plump lips around 4 AM. Hearing them was like music to my ears and I fell asleep shortly after with my head tucked under his chin and my hand on his heart. The heart I'm now fiercely protective of. 

When we managed to drag ourselves out of bed, Finn was very quiet, stuck in his own head again. He was pale, a lot paler than usual and I wonder if it's nerves or from the lack of sleep he had. Probably both, but I do think it's more nerves.