Rebuilding Reality

Chapter Twelve

Maya's POV

Today, waking up feels... different. It's not like before, on that cold, hard floor. Instead, I'm under these soft blankets, lying next to Mason. It's a strange feeling, waking up without fear.

The room is small, a studio apartment. Max's "bed," which is just the couch as a bed, is just across from us. He sleeps on the couch now, giving us his bed. I feel grateful for this, even though I worry about him being comfortable.

The morning sun shines through the window, bringing a warmth I'm not used to. In the places we've been, the sun was always just a distant memory. Here, it feels like a gentle hug.

Mason is still sleeping, his face calm. It's nice to see him like this, without the usual worry lines. We may have been separated for the last part of our lives, facing some nightmares. But this, this is a moment of peace, rare and precious.

I sit up and the blankets fall away, leaving me a bit chilly. It's a different kind of cold, nothing like the biting chill of our past. Our few possessions are scattered around, not much, but they're ours.

Mason wakes up, his expression changes to something I cannot quite place. He gives me a sleepy smile, I take that as a good sign.

"G-Good m-morning," I say. Words are just words to me. Sometimes, I just say them without knowing what they should feel like.

"Morning," he replies, voice heavy with sleep. He stretches, then rubs his eyes. "Sleep okay?"

I nod. "Y-Yeah, it's n-nice h-here," I reply. Expressing feelings isn't always easy, but I feel safe doing it with Mason.

We both sit there, enjoying the quiet of the morning. It's new to us, being in a place that feels safe. We're still learning about this world outside of what we've known, but this moment of calm is something I want to remember. It's a new beginning for us, a step into a different life.

The morning continues to unfold, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the window. The light gently nudges the room awake, reaching across to where Max is stirring on the couch. His eyes flutter open, and he stretches, a clear sign that the day has truly begun for all of us.

"Good morning, guys," Max greets us, his voice still heavy with sleep. He sits up, running a hand through his hair, looking every bit the protective older brother he strives to be.

"M-morning, M-Maxy," I reply, while Mason offers a sleepy but warm, "Hey."

Max sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Did you two sleep okay? First night in a real bed in a while, huh?"

I glance at Mason before responding. "Y-Y-Yeah, it w-was... n-nice. D-Different, b-but g-good," I say, a small smile playing on my lips.

Mason nods in agreement. "Definitely better than what we're used to," he adds, his voice carrying a hint of newfound optimism.

Max chuckles softly, his protective nature evident. Max makes a sound that I think means he's happy or maybe amused. "Well, you guys deserve it. We may not have much, but we'll make the best of it here."

I'm not sure how to respond, but I feel like I should be thankful. The morning conversation, though simple, reinforces the sense of safety and family we've found in this small studio apartment.

As the three of us move around, getting ready for the day, there's a sense of normalcy that feels both new and welcome. The routine of brushing our teeth, combing our hair, and choosing what to wear is a novel experience for Mason and me, a stark contrast to the regimented and bleak life we left behind.

Breakfast is a simple affair, but it's filled with small talk and the clinking of utensils. Max, while sipping his coffee, casually mentions his plans for the day. "I've got a night shift today, but don't worry, I'll make sure you guys have dinner before I head out," he says, his tone casual but caring. He wants us to know we are safe and looked after.