Holy shit, my head feels about to explode.
What the fuck, man, why does it hurt so—ah, right. The wine.
"Are you awake?"
Jordan's soft voice rings in my ears like thunder, and pain shoots down to my cheekbones; he might as well have stabbed my eardrums with an ice pick, and the sensation would've been the frigging same. I've got to gnash my teeth not to let out a wince. My dumb ass forgot how annoying my hungover is when I gobble down glasses of wine one after another. To start with, how much did I drink again? Can't tell. Can't remember. In any case, too much. Another stabbing pain at the back of my head, and I hiss. I swear to God, it's not as bad when I drink beer. It's just that wine is hell to clear up from my system for whatever reason.
"Do you want to sleep a bit longer?" Jordan lowers his voice. It's on the level of a whisper now. "Breakfast can wait for a while longer. If I'd known you reacted so badly to wine, I'd have prevented Eve from buying any."
"It's fine." I force the words out and peel my eyes open. The curtains are closed, yet the room is still too bright. Might as well set my eyeballs on fire while we're at it. It'd be less painful. "It's my fault for drinking one too many. I should've paced myself better."
"Is that so?"
That's all Jordan says. He doesn't insist, and instead walks closer to the bed to put a glass of water on the night desk, just beside my head, then step back. Wait. He's up already? Even when he's busy with work, he's been lying in bed beside me until I wake up lately, typing on his laptop or consulting files. Did I sleep for that long…? Where are the kids, anyway? I pat the bed and feel around. There's no one. The bed sheets aren't even warm. Did they sleep with Jonathan? Or perhaps, James?
"What hour is it…?" Gosh, my throat feels parched.
"It's only a bit past nine." Jordan smiles. "You can sleep for a while longer, don't worry."
My brow crease. I can't tell if it's from the confusion or the pain. If it's so early, why is he up already? Well, whatever. I prop myself up on my elbows despite my body's screams of protest. Next time I want to follow Eve's pace, I should ask Jordan to knock me back to my senses. If he doesn't want to, I can always ask my brother—ah, fuck, my brother. What happened to him in the end? The evening is blurry in my head, but I do remember Bryan telling my husband and his ex-bed partner his secret. Even sober, I've got no clue why he did that.
"About my brother…" I lift my eyes, my lips resting against the glass of water. I'm not sure what to say next. It's such a mess. And it's not like I'm in any state whatsoever to use my brain.
"He went back home after you dozed off on the couch."
What a heartless brother. I resist snorting and nod; I have instant regret. Don't move an inch, you goddamn moron. Nodding is a no-go today, huh? I should've known.
"Do you remember what we talked about?" Jordan tentatively asks.
"I remember up to… erg…"
OK, fine, I don't remember much. After my brother dropped the glass of wine and gave a death sentence to the carpet, it's pitch black. Although, I think I do remember some stuff about us talking on the couch…? Or it could be my imagination running wild. I'm not sure.
"Well, everything's more or less clear up to when my brother asked about your age."
"Ah, so you forgot a few things, then."
My mouth twitches. "And what did I forget, exactly?"
"Three major things." Jordan arches an eyebrow, his voice a little too teasing to my taste. What did I forget that make him grin like a fool? It's not like his usual stoic self. "I'll give you hints. The first thing concerns how twins can be both born as Seers; the second, the current mission your brother is entangled with; and the third, family matters."
…Honestly, I'm not sure which one I'm more curious about right now. I put the glass of water back on the desk and burry my head in my hands. Come on, Scott, think. It shouldn't be that hard to remember things that I've happened a few hours ago, no?
But no matter how much I rack my brain, nothing comes to mind.
What a brilliant idea to have a serious conversation when I'm drunk, seriously. I can't help but glare at Jordan. And then, something hits me.
He's standing quite far away from the bed.
Actually, even when he brought the glass of water to me, he stayed at a safe distance and put it on the night desk instead of handing it over to me. That's not his style. He's been invading my private space without a once of shame lately, so why is he being so cautious this morning?
Dude… Are you avoiding me? Why?
Another pang, another wince stuck in my throat.
I peek at my husband through my fingers. My gaze falls on his hand.
"It's like ants are crawling on my skin. Or worms are crawling underneath."
Ah, no way. I raise my head. Jordan is smiling. Gently, like always.
But he's clearly avoiding me.
These past few weeks, he's almost never left the bed before me. He only got up first when he had an urgent matter to attend to. And whenever we're alone, or even when we're not alone, he's always standing or sitting in my personal space. But he's not this morning.
My words couldn't have… No. They'd have. Jordan's like that.
My headache is throbbing harder.
I… Dude, why did you take a drunkard's words at face value?
"Hm, Scott?" He calls me. "Are you alright? Do you need some painkillers?"
"No, no, I'm fine." I shook my head, and hello instant regret—again. I swear, my brain's trying to escape by whatever orifice it can find. "And, well…"
"Is something the matters?" He tilts his head. The shadow of his true form reacts a little more, his pointy ears perking up. It draws a sigh out of me. This powerful patriarch looks like a puppy kicked to the curb. Ugh, come on, you've got to be kidding me! Why did he believe the yapping of a drunkard idiot? He shouldn't have.
Now, I gotta clean up the misunderstanding.
"Have you forgotten I can see your true form?" It's a mumble, but of course, Jordan hears it. His hearing is top-notch. Comforting people isn't my forte. I mean, I've never been close enough to anyone to have to comfort them at some point. Bryan has never told me about his problem, for one. "Stop overthinking the words of a drunkard. I don't mind if you stand closer."
He blinks. What the…? Did he think I wouldn't realize? I'm not dumb, nor am I dense. He's being so obvious that it makes it hard to ignore. But there's one thing I hadn't expected; that goddamn smile. Why does he look over the moon for something so silly?
It's nothing to—!
"Jordan!" Jonathan's voice echoes, and I snap my head toward the door. I think my brain tried to get into my spine this time. Not sure if it succeeded or failed. Angry footsteps follow next, coming from the corridors up into my bedroom. "You…! Why did you sign me up to play decoy without asking for my opinion first? You threw a fit when I offered to do it, and another when we got ambushed! But now, you're throwing me into the wolf's den yourself!"
…Well, good morning to you, too, Jonathan.