EMILY'S POV
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"Can you make breakfast?" Nico's deep groggy voice grumbles from beside me and I grip the duvet tighter, "Yeah," I murmur before sitting up, and he's just lying there, his back turned to me, staring at the wall. I feel almost invisible, but the fact that he spoke to me is somewhat comforting. I slowly get up, and I'm not sure why I'm so scared to make any sudden movements. I glance down at my bare thighs, noticing the slight gripping marks on them before I slide off the bed. I freeze when I realize that my clothes are torn and everything is still in boxes.
I glance over my shoulder, wishing he'd speak to me instead of silently laying in bed, not even looking at me, but I stride over and open a box, grabbing the first dress I see and I slide it on before heading downstairs
