“A hundred percent.”
“Good. Why-?”
“It was a low time for me, alright?” I said gently “I felt like a waste of space-“
“You arenot-“
“I don’t need you to tell me that.” I sighed with a small smile “I don’t want to talk about it at all. It’s over. It happened. It won’t happen again. Since the experience the importance I give my life has tripled.”
Matthew snorted, responding by lifting my hand and kissing it.
A beat of silence passed. A thought occurred to me. “Who told you?”
A snore answered my question.
I raised an eyebrow, unamused “I know you’re faking.”
Another, very pointed snore.
I rolled my eyes.Whatever.
I’d been laying there, listening to Matt’s even breathing, for I didn’t knowhowlong before remembering that Jack had firmly instructed that I kept an eye on Stryker. Come to think of it, I’d been doing a shitty job at it.
I slowly, carefully, climbed out of bed to not jostle Matthew before equally as carefully opening and closing the bedroom door. I poked my head in Stryker’s- and my own- room from the doorway, frowning at the darkness that engulfed the area, and at the Stryker sized lump in the middle of his bed. Jesus, it was three in the afternoon.
“S? Time to get up. Wakey wakey.” I knocked on the wall.
“I’m not asleep.” Stryker replied hoarsely, not moving an inch.
I furrowed my brows further “well…don’t you…have training or something?”
“Probably.”
I blew out a breath. Okay, so…it was three, he clearly hadn’t gotten up…he hadn’t eaten.Great.
“Come on, up you get. I’m…we’ll leave soon.” It was a lie, mainly because I wasn’t sure if Stryker would get up if I’d said it was to eat something.
He just groaned.
“Hey, none of that. Downstairs in five minutes. I mean it.”
I left the door open as I left, jogging down the stairs to find something to make without Matthew’s help.
I was left completely stumped. I was shit at cooking. I considered asking one of the other guys but thought against it- it was probably best to avoid too many questions.
I was just finishing making a sandwich when Stryker made an appearance downstairs, wearing sweats and a hoodie that definitely wasn’t his, hands hidden in the pockets.
I sucked in a breath- he looked awful. He had dark shadows under his eyes that almost looked like bruises, his hair was stringy and flat, and he was trembling where he stood, his legs shaking.
“You look awful.” I voiced my thoughts before I could stop myself.
He turned his pale face away, swallowing thickly “yeah, I know.”
I blew out a breath “uh…sandwich?” I offered bleakly, at loss.
Stryker visibly shuddered “nah.”
“S…what have you been eating lately?”
