You Want Brothers? Take. That. Back.

Suspicious

I find the reason behind why the house was a deathly silent later that night. Brandon sent me to bed and I'm laying bored as hell when I hear my brothers down the hall. They walk right past my room and into the office, and I blame my weariness and curiosity when I get out of bed and  follow them, dead set they're hiding something at this point.

I wait for them to turn the corner before I open my door and do a quick scan for bedroom lights since most of our rooms are located in the same hallway. None were on and I didn't hear any activity, so I further my conquest for answers and head down the hall. If I get caught out of bed who knows what they'll do, but I can't help but grin at the excitement of rebelling even if it's just a stupid bedtime. I'll blame it on not knowing the time since my phone is still confiscated. 

I hear a door shut before I also turn the corner, my feet padding quietly along the dimmed space. As I approach the door, however, I strain my fucking ears only to hear nothing. I've hardly been in the office before simply because I've never had a reason to snoop but now as I stand before a silent room filled with 6 boys, confusion flits over my face. Is the room sound proof? I could have sworn they went in here. What the hell is going on?

A sense of irritation washes over me as I feel left out in some way. They've always had their secrets and many moments without me, whether it's done on purpose or not, but I've never felt this out of the loop. Resisting the urge to  barge in, I sigh, sizing up the door as if can figure out if it's actually sound proof or not. It is an abnormally large door, but my bothers are big people so I've always assumed that's why all our doors are extra tall. I couldn't even reach the handles until I was 5. 

"Ella?" 

I jump at the call of my name, flinching towards the dark wall of the hallway. Damn it it's Nathan. Of fucking course. I clear my throat, conscious of my foolishness for still feeling the need to ignore him.  

"What are you doing up? He pries, not moving towards me like last time, instead crossing his arms and holding a firm gaze. 

I bite my inner cheek, my eyes darting from the end of the hallway back to him. A few agonizing moments pass and I can feel his eyes burning into me.

He sighs, "I understand you're still upset with me, and since you're not ready to talk I can take you to bed where you should be now... Unless you're here for someone?" He gestures towards the office, keeping his composure well, even though he must be extremely suspicious of me.

I shake my head, eyeing the door one more time before turning back to my room. 

"Ella?" He calls once more. 

I turn to face him, making out his pained expression and tense posture in the faint lighting, "I'm really sorry honey."

I stare at him for a few moments before turning around again and continuing to my room. A pang of guilt overcomes me but regardless of whether he cares or not, I'll accept his apology when I'm ready. He doesn't come after me and I appreciate that, despite my steps quickening at the last stretch to my room just in case my lack of response angers him.

Getting in bed, I can't make sense of what just happened and part of me is convinced I'm just tired and need to stop overanalyzing. I remind myself mom and dad will be home in no time, and that I'll figure out the office mystery later when there's less of them to avoid.  I continue to reassure myself until I calm down, a tactic Evan taught me when I would come to him crying after getting in trouble when we were younger. He'd hug me and tell me to verbally list my senses. It helped stay in reality, winning the fight between a panic attack or not.