Mess of a life

6 - Not completely alone

I was pacing in my room – a wide white space, filled with a huge canopy bed and flowy curtains – my breathing erratic. There had been a few minutes since the loud slamming door had left me alone with three of my oldest brothers, but the emotion hadn't worn off.

"That went well", muttered Elliott from his couch.

Charles had been quick to cut the awkward silence, proposing to show me my bedroom. "It's not really decorated or anything, we didn't really know what you wanted to do with it, but well-"

"It's perfect." I whispered.

"We'll take you shopping soon anyways, then we can buy any decoration you'll want."

I just nodded, and after an awkward salutation he left me to myself, where I was now, intently trying not to spiral in my head. That boy- he... I let myself slide along the wall, dropping my head between my knees. Just breathe, I reminded myself. Breathe in, breathe out.

I could have known his blonde hair and hazel eyes, the slight point of his chin, or even the may his eyebrow arched when he frowned anywhere, even without having ever seen him prior to this day in my life. Because he was the masculine carbon copy of my older sister Julia. I didn't know how this was possible – how any of this situation was real, to be honest. Did this mean that my older sister had a twin? How did we end up separated from the rest of our siblings? What did this mean for my second sister, Amelia, who was three years younger than I? And my parents? If the ones I knew weren't related by blood to me, who were my biological genitors? Why did I end up under the guardianship of my brother instead?

I was drowning in my questions and I desperately needed answers.

But they wouldn't come without effort so I forced myself to get up. I had to do something, anything, before getting too wrapped up in my own head and never resurfacing again.

The bathroom was huge, all in white marble and cream decorations – my favourite aesthetic. A quick check up of the cabinets taught me that they were filled with all the basic necessities: soft towels, nicely scented bath products, a few razors, and even a packet of pads – which weren't the kind I would buy, but I appreciated the effort anyways. The shower itself was luxurious, and the panel control ridiculously complicated. At least it distracted me, which was good. I took my time, layering shampoo in my hair and getting rid of the dirt from the hospital, the flight and the car ride. It had been a very long day, and the warm water relaxed some of the tension down my back.

Fresh and fragrant, I thoroughly applied moisturizer, then brushed my hair and blow dried it. The fancy hair dryer ended up giving a sophisticated fluffy look to my slight locks. I even went as far as filing my very short nails and re applying nail polish to replace the chipped one on my toe nails. Something about these small self care actions brought me peace – it felt a bit like I was becoming my old self again as I left the lost girl from the orphanage and the hurt one from the hospital behind with each coat of polish I applied.

When I emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a dream-like white fluffy robe, I was a whole lot more relaxed. I explored the walk-in closet on the opposite side of the bedroom, only to find it utterly empty, save from a small pile of what looked like sweats. Thankful to whomever thought about the fact that I came without any single thing of my own, I grabbed a pair of thick grey tracksuits and a baby blue hoodie. Both were extremely oversized and despite my height I had to roll the bottom and the waist of the pants. The hoodie completely covered my hands.

Once dressed, I had nothing left to do in this empty room. The wide bed and its fluffy cover seemed really appealing, but my fear of being alone with my thoughts got the best of me and I exited the bedroom, hoping to not encounter anyone but Charles. Thankfully, Jesper, my supposed deceased sister's twin, had gone out as soon as he saw me, so it was one less issue on my mind.

I randomly scoured the corridor, observing that the other doors of the bearing had a metal plate engraved with a name. "Jesper" read the one right across from mine. The one next to me was Dane's. Great. From the little I saw of them, they didn't look like the nicest out of the bunch of brothers. On one side the corridor led to a small landing decorated with plants – monsteras, my favourite, connected to the staircase Charles made me climb to get here, and on the other side, opposite from my room, another corridor led somewhere I hadn't visited yet. I liked the way the house seemed intricate, with turns and hidden stairs: everything wasn't laid out in front of my eyes, but rather presented as a secret to unfold. It gave the whole a more homey feeling, as if the house had been built from one generation to the other, who each added what they needed for their growing family. The result wasn't messy. Everything I had seen so far was elegant, tastefully decorated if not a bit impersonally.

Deciding against exploring the other side of the floor, I went back down, hoping to find Charles. I didn't really know what I wanted with him, I didn't want to seem clingy. All I knew was that he was the only person in the house I was slightly comfortable with, and that I didn't want to be alone.

The lobby was empty, as well as the living room. Completely lost, I erred downstairs. Who knew there could be so many rooms in a house? The ground floor seemed to be organised around an interior patio, which could be rounded from the inside through a corridor frequently pierced with french doors. On the other side of that patio, which I promised myself to explore later, I found another living room, smaller but cosier, and finally a kitchen. It was beautiful, partially opened towards the living room. I could tell it was designed by someone who loved to cook: everything was functional yet stylish, with a central island that ended up as a bar. The combination of the two rooms was thought out to allow real family time, when everyone could do their own thing and yet still be together. I loved it – I might add some of those features in my pinterest board for my future home– which I created with my sisters, I remembered, my train of thought immediately turning sad.

"You might want to take her shopping," commented Elliott, sitting on a barstool. Despite the way he addressed Charles as if I wasn't there, I was slightly thankful for the interruption.

Charles chuckled, eyeing me up and down from his place, leaning against the counters. Something was lightly sizzling in the pan behind him.

"Yes, you might be right. I planned on bringing her tomorrow, at least for the first basics." Seeming to realise that I was indeed there, he added: "If that's okay with you?"

I merely shrugged. I was suddenly feeling awkward. I felt like I just interrupted a moment between my brothers, who must've been catching up after Charle's absence because of me. Now, Elliott was back to watching his laptop screen, typing a few words of what looked like an email. I was interrupting, they were discussing things without needing a stranger's interruption–

"How do you like your bedroom?"

As if reading my mind Charles stopped stirring the food and smiled at me, in such a casual way that I didn't feel like an inconvenience anymore. He addressed me so casually, as if I just came home from school and this was our normal nightly interaction.

Finding my throat closed up once more, I just shrugged again, trying to convey with a small smile that it was nice. More like really nice, but I wasn't sure that non verbal communication went that far.

I think it was because of the way he looked at me, his eyes completely empty of judgement, or maybe because of the casualness of the feeling, that brought back the feeling of belonging somewhere, in a family, but I felt the sudden urge to hug him. And I did, crossing the kitchen space in a few steps and gathering the attention of my other brother on the way, and enclosing my arms around his chest.

He took a second to react, surprised by my initiating a contact with him, before dropping the spatula on the counter and wrapping me up in his arms. He hugged me with his whole frame, surrounding me with his warmth, making me feel safe. Loved, even. Right then and there, soaking in the wordless comfort he was offering, I decided that it didn't matter if I only met him a few days prior. It didn't matter that I still didn't understand his connection to me, or how I ended up here. I just knew that this man had been nothing but kind to me, and that he had inevitably become the rock that ground me in the mess that was my life right now. If the last week felt like an ocean of greys and blacks, he was the speck of life that provided me with a tiny seed of hope that I wouldn't drown. So I tightened my hold on his shirt at his back, and breathed in, trying to fill myself with the feeling that I wasn't completely alone.