I can't believe I'm really doing this right now.

I had another one of those damn nightmares after it's been so long and it's making me cry harder than ever before.

The visuals are more and more similar to what actually happened each time, and the dream lasts longer and longer. I'm so glad that Bryce woke me up, and even though I wish he didn't have to witness this, I'm glad he was the one to come to my side rather than anyone else here.

His arms feel so safe, and he smells great, like spice with a hint of something sweet. Even though I initiated this embrace between us, he surprisingly hasn't pulled away.

Instead, he pulled the duvet over our bodies as he holds me close, running his fingers through my hair.

I should feel bad for sending Mateo away like that, but I don't. I know he cares about me but I don't feel the same comfort from him as I do from Bryce.

Oh dear God, I'm going insane. I can't stop crying because it just felt so real.

"You need some sleep, sweetheart," Bryce whispers against the side of my head.

He's correct, so I reluctantly let go of him, shifting away from the warmth of his body to the other side of the bed.

I can't look him in the eye right now. I'm so embarrassed. I'm being so dramatic right now, and I hate myself for it.

"You're right. You can probably just go now," I tell him and my voice is too quiet.

He seems to catch it though, and he rolls over on to his side so that he's facing me.

"You're kicking me out right after you let me in, huh?" he questions, raising an eyebrow at me.

I didn't mean to come across as rude but I just assumed that he would like to go back to sleep. It must be super late. Though I do recall that he claimed I didn't wake him up, so perhaps he was having troubles sleeping too or something.

"Um, no?" I respond, feeling unsure, and his expression softens. There's a few inches of space between us now, and I get a chance to really look at him since he walked in there.

He's wearing glasses. I didn't know he had bad eyesight. Maybe I don't pay attention as much as I believed, but he must wear contacts so it's not my fault.

He's also shirtless and I know it's rude to stare but I can't help my wandering eyes.

All I can think is damn, he must workout a lot.

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt? And what's up with the glasses?" I prod, and Bryce laughs out loud. He has a great laugh.

His eyes twinkle as he raises a hand, gesturing for me to come closer to him.

"You're shaking, come here," he explains to me, and when I look down at my hands I see how badly they're quivering.

He rolls his eyes. "I started wearing glasses in ninth grade. And you're lucky I at least put pants on before I came in here," he says, making my cheeks flush.

He lifts a finger and taps me on the tip of my nose, before banding his arms around my waist and pulling me back to him.

I look up at him and I know my eyes are wide, and they just widen more when he takes my hand in his, raising it up to his lips and kissing the back of it.

He then sets my hand down on his chest and I shiver as he rubs small circles into my back.

"I don't know why I feel so comfortable around you. For all I know, you could have turned into a murderer or something over the past years," I comment, and Bryce snorts as he presses his face into my hair.

"Nah. That whole crazy-person business is my mom's brand," he replies lightheartedly, and I'm surprised he can joke about something like that so soon after it had occurred.

I give him a meek smile and he continues, saying, "Don't forget that we've known each other for nearly seventy-five percent of our lives. It's not like I just showed up last week out of nowhere as a complete stranger."

He takes his glasses off his face, folding the temples back and setting the frames down on the bedside table. I watch his movements closely, and when he turns back around to face me he shoots me a lazy smile.

"Not to mention that you're speaking with me right now, after you shooed Blondie away," he continues, and I respond instantly.

"Mateo would run straight to Charlie and tell him everything," I say, and Bryce's eyes widen a little bit.

"You're going to hate me. He came up here earlier while you were still asleep and I told him the outline of what happened," he confesses, and I groan, knowing that he probably texted my brother already.

"I'm really sorry," Bryce continues, and I shake my head at him, knowing that Charlie would find out eventually either way.

"It's fine," is all I say.

Bryce shuts his eyes, and I take note of how long his eyelashes are.

His face is perfect, there's no other way to put it. It's almost irritating how good-looking he is, and even when I try and take my eyes away from him I just can't.

Everything about him is crisp, from the sharp line of his jaw all the way down to where the lines of ink begin just below his shoulder.

I've never actually taken time to figure out what exactly the drawings are. I notice that it's a variety of things, from roses with thorns to words written in presumably Arabic and typed in a newspaper font. I use my index finger and trace along the blackness, which makes one of Bryce's eyes open up so he can watch me.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologize, and Bryce closes his again, smiling a little.

"You apologize too often," he tells me.

"Sorry," I instantly reply.

He snorts.

"Who fucked up your confidence?" he asks me, toying with the ends of my hair. "Was it your mom?"

I'd rather not talk about my mother ever, but especially not right now. She would find this whole situation hilarious, and a great way to prove a point to me. She'd be screaming 'I told you so!' in my face and I would run upstairs to my room, crying. Charlie would show up a few minutes later and sit with me for a little while until he would eventually give up on trying to calm me down.

No has ever stuck around for a full one of my breakdowns, no one except for Bryce apparently.

"It's a really long story," I sigh, and Bryce's hold around me visibly slacks.

"You should stop fighting with her, you know," he tells me, and I feel my whole body tense up.

He has absolutely no clue what happened, so it makes no sense for him to give me advice on my rough relationship with my mother. I'm almost a little offended, and his eyes open wide as he feels me shying away.

"And you should stop smoking," I counter, which forces Bryce to defend himself.

To my surprise, the remark doesn't faze him in the slightest, and he actually pulls me back to his side.

"Well shit, Blossom. Would you be willing to make a deal with me then? How about I quit smoking if you agree to try and stop arguing with your mom," he offers.

I gape at him. "Really, Bradshaw? You're trying to bargain with me right now?" I fire back without even thinking, and he shrugs.

"You have the better end up the deal," he tells me.

"I didn't say you have to completely stop. I just want you to make an active effort to have a better mindset when it comes to her," he explains, and I suppose he's asking for something reasonable.

Sighing, I nod at him. "Sure. I'll do it."

Even though I'm not super adamant on fixing my family relationship, I really do want Bryce to stop smoking; I find it disgusting and it's terrible for his health.

I raise a hand up, and Bryce shakes it, grinning.

I lay back down in the bed, instantly feeling Bryce's warm breath at my ear.

"On a real note, you don't mind if I stay here with you, do you?" he questions out of the blue, and I look up at him.

I have to think for a moment before answering, "No. You can stay."

He rests the side of his face on the top of my head, leaning into me, and I welcome the safety of his embrace.

We lay there quietly for too long, both of us just staring blankly up at the creamy white ceiling, before Bryce says something. "How often do you get those nightmares?"

I contemplate ignoring the question, but I quickly realize that doing so wouldn't get me anywhere.

"It used to be worse. Every night, for awhile. Now it's gotten better, and I only get them maybe once a month. The walls at my house are pretty soundproof so no one ever hears me so I never get woken up typically. I just have to sleep through it," I whisper.

"I get nightmares too," Bryce says back, softly.

I instantly feel sad for him. Nightmares are extremely isolating because you have no control over any part of the situation. It's so unbelievably tough to have to sit through all of it helplessly as it's impossible to do anything to help yourself.

"Are they about your parents?" I ask him.

"Sure."

There's more silence for awhile.

"I'm about to say something now, and it's probably best if you just don't respond," Bryce continues, before taking a deep breath in.

"I care about you a lot. I came in here because I want to make sure you're doing all right, and I helped you out at the party because I want to keep you safe. I don't know what this means, or what I'm trying to say here, but just know that I'm always looking out for you," he finishes, and I know he's watching my face, closely examining my expression, but I don't have the bravery to make eye contact with him after that confession.

"Goodnight, Blossom." He kisses me on the top of my head.

"Goodnight, Bryce."

When I fall back asleep, I have a dream of being on a Broadway stage in The Phantom of the Opera.

It's nothing like the flashback of The Incident I had earlier.

🌸🌸🌸

I wake up the next morning, alone in the bed, the covers tucked tightly around my body.

There's still a dent in the pillow from Bryce's head, and the scent of him still lingers though him and his glasses are gone.

This scent is quickly replaced as the smell of something sweet and baked wafts into the room, as if someone is downstairs cooking. I'm drawn out of my bed, walking over to glance at my reflection in the mirror.

My hair is slightly frizzy, but after running my hairbrush through the long brown locks a few times, it's back to it's usual state. I realize that I'm still wearing my cherry blossom necklace, and my hand instinctively raises a hand to grasp the pendant between my fingers.

I apply some quick makeup in a rush, getting frustrated when some of my mascara transfers to my eyelid. I struggle to remove the black stain from my skin, eventually successfully wiping it away.

Not sure of the weather today, while rummaging through my bag I decide on just a pair of jeans and a light blue sweater. I put in a pair of hoop earrings as well, before grabbing my phone and heading downstairs.

It's around eleven o'clock, and the first thing I notice when I get downstairs is Jasmine and Jordan's sleeping bodies on the living room carpet. They're presumably going to be excruciatingly cranky when they wake up, and I can't wait for them to whine about their headaches all day.

Ryan and Mateo are sitting on stools at the counter, watching as Bryce is pouring batter into a pan on the stove.

He's making pancakes.

Why is this surprising? Of course he knows how to cook, I should have already figured that much out. He's good at everything, so it makes perfect sense for him to be a great cook as well.

I suppose pancakes aren't difficult to make, but I'm sure he's capable of making other things too.

"Hey Lex," Ryan says, turning around when he hears my footsteps.

I give him a small wave, walking over to where the three guys are and sitting down at the end of the island, the spot closest to where Bryce is standing. He eyes me for a moment before grabbing a spatula off the counter and flipping the pancakes over.

There are six stools at the island, and five of them have a plate and utensils set up on the counter before them.

I'm almost entirely sure that this was all Bryce's doing. I'm clueless as of to how he woke up early enough to do all of this, knowing how late we were up talking last night.

Bryce scrapes the pancakes off of the pan, setting them down on a plate to cool down. Mateo and Ryan immediately snatch them up and begin eating. I roll my eyes at them, and Ryan sticks out his tongue at me.

Bryce pours more batter on, before nodding towards Jasmine and Jordan.

"Someone go wake those shitheads up," he says, and Mateo glares at him. Ryan laughs though, standing up from his seat and walking over to the living room.

Now that it's just me, Bryce, and Mateo, it suddenly becomes very awkward.

The uncomfortableness dissolves when I hear agitated groaning coming from the living room, a sure sign that Ryan successfully woke the duo up.

"Where's the aspirin?" I hear Jordan ask, his tone lazy. Ryan laughs in his face, but stands up, disappearing down a hallway and returning with a bottle of pills in his hands. He tosses it to Jordan whose reflexes aren't fast enough and the bottle just hits him in the chest.

"Screw you," he huffs, standing up using the couch for support. When he steadies himself he pulls Jasmine up too, and the two of them hobble over to sit next to us.

Ryan fills them each up a glass of water, sliding then across the counter. Jordan pops open the pill bottle and him and Jasmine each take some aspirin.

Jasmine leans back in her seat, crossing her arms. Her eye makeup is a little smudgy, but she still looks great which is really unfair.

"I'm never drinking ever again," she claims, and we all laugh, knowing how untrue that statement is.

"I think we all know that you two are going to do the exact same thing tonight," Mateo comments, just as Bryce drops two pancakes onto my plate.

"You didn't have much for dinner last night," he says, leaning closer to me.

"Eat," he commands, handing me the glass bottle of maple syrup. m

I nod at him, and he brushes my hair behind my ears.

"Thanks," I say shyly.

Mateo clears his throat, interrupting our moment.

"When are Charlie and Daniel going to get here?" he asks, completely off topic.

Ryan is the one to answer, pulling out his phone to check something as Bryce goes back to cooking.

"They should be here in half an hour," Ryan says, and Mateo nods.

I cut into one of my pancakes, taking a bite and enjoying how fluffy and smooth it is. The chocolate chips aren't too sweet either, and they definitely taste homemade.

"When did you get all the ingredients for these?" I ask Bryce, who's resting his elbows in the counter, waiting for the next batch to cook.

"I got up early and drove a few minutes away to the grocery store," he explains.

"That's why I, uh, left you," he says, this time a lot quieter. I nod at him, before reaching to wrap a hand around his arm. I pull him closer, looking up at him.

"Thank you for last night," I tell him, and he smiles at me.

"No problem."

Everyone seems to enjoy the food as it's generally quiet as we eat. I don't eat any more than what Bryce put on my plate, so I finish quickly and get up to help Bryce with dishes.

He ate quickly as well, and I lend him a hand by placing the dishes in the washer after he rinses them in a sink. We get it done fairly fast this way, but by the time we're done, everybody else is already sitting in the living room, laughing along to something playing on the TV.

"It doesn't take a lot to amuse you people, does it?" Bryce asks out of the blue, causing me to jump a little as I didn't expect his voice. I shrug, seeing as he's correct, just as there's a quick knock on the door.

Everyone's heads shoot around from the couch at the sudden sound, and I walk over to the door to open it up.

Sure enough, my brother and Daniel are waiting on the doorstep.

"Hey guys," Charlie says, stepping in through the doorway and giving everybody a wave. Him and Daniel both drop their bags in a heap on the floor, and though Daniel heads right to the living area to sit with everybody else, Charlie takes my hand and directs me down the side hallway.

I notice Bryce watching us carefully, but he keeps his distance.

"Mateo told me what happened. Are you all right? Who was the guy?" he begins to prod right away, and I inwardly groan.

I knew it. Mateo couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Sure, Mateo has my best interest at heart, but he doesn't realize that sometimes I don't need my brother to handle everything for me.

"I'm fine," I assure him. "Let's just leave it alone, okay?"

Charlie doesn't listen to my request. "Who was the guy? Do you know him?" His voice is clearly angry.

"I don't know, Charlie. He didn't hurt me. There's no need to worry about it. Now can we please just drop it?" I ask him again.

He still doesn't listen, and opens his mouth to speak again. "What do you mean? Why aren't you taking this seriously?"

"Can you not understand English? She asked you to leave it alone," Bryce interjects.

My brother and I both turn our heads to the side to look at him, where we find him leaning against the wall, one eyebrow raised.

"And you should have a say in this conversation because?" Charlie fires back.

Bryce laughs at him, taking a few steps forward towards us. Charlie quickly shies away, taking a step away from me.

"Don't be that way. Listen to your sister," Bryce says, and Charlie thinks for a moment before turning back to me.

He breathes slowly before pulling me into his arms for a brief hug.

"I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you," he whispers, and I nod against his chest.

He pulls away from me and gives me a sad smile. "It's really not fair that this stuff keeps happening to you. I'm just glad that you're okay."

I pat him on the shoulder, looking back to my side to find that Bryce has disappeared.

"Thanks," I say back to Charlie, and just like that we link arms and walk back off to the living room.

Bryce is sitting alone on one of the sofas, so Charlie and I walk over and join him.

I end up sitting in the middle of the two guys, and soon take note of how uncomfortable Charlie seems. His eyes are currently glued to his lap, but when he looks up I follow his gaze straight to Jasmine, who is chatting with Daniel, all signs of her hangover gone.

"Jealous?" I tease him, and he flicks me in the arm in response.

Charlie and Jasmine have been doing this odd on-and-off thing for ages, and Jasmine currently seems really interested in Daniel at the moment so it should be interesting to see how my brother handles it all.

Ryan yawns, leaning forward in his seat.

"Anyone have any ideas for what we should do today?" he questions, and seeing as I'm already watching Jasmine, I quickly notice a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Anyone up for a game of truth or dare?" she asks.