Capítulo Oito: O Progresso

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Gemma's POV:

I woke up in my bed, covered with my blanket. I shivered when I sat up, noticing how cold they kept the house. Were we living in the Arctic? I didn't think so.

I got out of bed, trying to think of how I'd gotten there in the first place. All I could remember was falling asleep in the library and then trying to make it to the dining room without passing out from exhaustion.

I opened the door to my bedroom and looked left and right, just to make sure that one of my brother's wasn't there and waiting to pounce at me for missing dinner?

I hoped that Tobias wasn't too terribly mad at me. I liked living with a roof over my head.

"Someone was tired." A voice came from behind me. I whirled around, not expecting someone to be behind me right after I looked. There stood Damian, a small smile on his face as he twirled a lollipop around in his hand.

Where did he keep getting these things? It seemed like they appeared out of thin air.

"The last thing I can remember is falling asleep in the library. Am I in trouble for being late to dinner?" I asked sheepishly, twisting my fingers. Damian looked at me in confusion, as if he couldn't decide why I would ask such a thing.

"Why would you be in trouble?" Damian asked, arching an eyebrow at me. I blushed, feeling stupid for asking something like that.

"Because I missed dinner?" I said, but it came out as more of a question. Damian shook his head at me, looking towards the ground as he did so.

"Oh, you came to dinner. About an hour late, sure, but you came. And you fell asleep at the table. Did you know that you snore?" Damian asked. My eyes widened and my lips parted.

"I do not!" I basically shrieked, not believing what I was hearing. I didn't snore, the meanie-head. Damian arched his eyebrow at me again as he looped his arm around my shoulder and dragged me somewhere.

I trusted that he wouldn't lead me somewhere where I could get eaten by something.

"You really do. Are you hungry?" Damian asked. I put a hand on my stomach. The empty feeling that I was used to, but I wasn't really hungry. I never felt the need to eat, but I knew I had to or else I would faint soon.

"I could eat." I shrugged. Damian smirked as he opened a door, showing me the kitchen.

He sat me down on a barstool and then started rushing around the kitchen, throwing random things on the counter. I couldn't cook to save my life, so I was praying that Damian knew what he was doing.

A warm feeling filled my chest. It was a nice feeling. I loved having someone take care of me for once.

"What was living with him like?" Damian asked suddenly. I looked up from picking at the skin around my ring finger on my left hand. I hadn't expected him to start interrogating me about George until I had gotten to know them all a bit better.

"Normal, I guess." I lied through my teeth. Maybe Damian could tell because he just nodded and continued to throw things into a frying pan. It sizzled for a minute before quieting down.

The sizzling was the only sound in the kitchen and I wished it would come back.

"Do you have any allergies?" Damian asked, turning around to face me for the first time in a while.

"I have a deadly allergy to peanuts, but nothing other than that." I said, going back to picking at my ring finger skin. Damian sat down on top of the counter while whatever food it was cooked. I was glad that Damian could cook.

Maybe he could teach me if I asked nicely?

The door opened and Sinclair walked in, his phone pressed up against his ear. He nodded at Damian and shot me a tiny smile. I reciprocated it with much more vigor. He sat down beside me when he finally hung up his call.

"I see Sleeping Beauty finally woke up. Sleep good?" Sinclair asked, leaning against the counter with his forearms. I nodded, biting my lip to restrain the smile that was begging to appear at the nickname.

Usually, I couldn't stand nicknames. But somehow this one didn't feel like it was meant to be hostile.

"Wonderfully. What did you guys do while I was sleeping?" I asked, turning to look at Sinclair. He hesitated while answering.

"Tobias and Zion worked. I had some calls to make. Damian hung out... Somewhere." Sinclair said, shrugging. As if acting like you were in a house full of strangers was normal. But, hey, who am I to judge?

Perhaps this was how they always act, as depressing as it was. How bad do things have to get for a family to act like strangers?

Well, they did lose their parents and their little sister in a single day.

I guess that's pretty bad.

I guess I was hoping for too much when I hoped that I would be welcomed into a loving family without needing to explain my entire past to them. Okay, I guess needing to explain what happened to me all those years would be necessary for any type of trust to build but that didn't mean that I wanted to.

Explaining all the tortue I'd been put through, all the things I'd seen in my childhood... It wasn't going to be fun. Anyways, it wasn't anything I really wanted to think about. Or talk about. I doubted I would talk about it if a gun was on my temple, but I hoped that I was never in that situation.

"Why are you all working? Isn't this supposed to be some sort of family vacation?" I asked innocently, masking my curiosity with wide eyes and a small pout. Sinclair looked up from his phone, biting his lip.

"It's not really a family vacation." Sinclair finally admitted. I figured but I wanted more information.

"Then why're you all together?" I asked, knowing there was no way that they all lived together willingly.

Sinclair didn't respond. Damian took a step closer to the counter and leaned against the marble across from me.

"We come together, every year, on the day you, mom, and dad died." Damian whispered, like it was some sort of secret. My lips parted unintentionally in shock. I didn't think that a-if my calculations are correct-six month old baby could have that much meaning in their lives that they came together one random day a year to grieve.

Little did I know that I was just starting to understand how much I meant to these men.

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