I Love You More Than I'm Afraid (Our Forevers #2) by Rebel Hart (the first e reader .txt) 📕

thing that was going to change the world. Maybe I’d smuggle the small chair out when I moved. I could put it on display in my eventual mansion and tell reporters that was where ‘it all started.’

With the morning arriving, I could also hear my family starting to move around outside my door. The music that frequently came from my younger twin sisters’ bedroom as they got ready broke through the calming silence, and given that they were into that preteens-singing-about-hardships-they-couldn’t-have possibly-experienced genre, I quickly snagged my new wireless earbuds—a birthday present from my best friend Aria—and grabbed my phone to play some significantly more chill music to get me through my school prep routine.

My dad’s booming voice passed by my door, interrupted only by the sound of two sharp pounds of his hand against my door, “Hope you’re awake in there!”

“I always am,” I called back.

I was an early riser because I hated sleeping in the dark, so I typically slept right after school and stayed awake at night. He knew that as well as I did, but my dad was a control freak in every sense of the word, and if he wasn't doing his fatherly thing, then he felt he was losing ground for some reason.

I'd already picked out what I was going to wear for the day—a simple zip-up hoodie decorated with doves, ripped jeans, and my favorite pair of black rain boots. Was it raining outside? No.

But call it my aesthetic.

I slipped into the bathroom across the hall, fortunately making it in just before one of my sisters. They were a little more into their appearances than me, which of course was fine, but it was always irritating in the morning when I had to wait forty-five minutes just to run my fingers through the half-head of my hair, put on a light coat of eyeshadow and mascara, and slide some lotion across the shaved half of my head—done in ten minutes.

“Should I swap?” I asked myself, looking at my current set of neon green gauges in my reflection. They didn’t necessarily match, but then again…

Neither did I.

There was a knock on the door before I could swap them out regardless, so I waved a hand and walked out of the bathroom. Willow was standing in the hallway outside the door. She was the older twin by a few minutes, and she reminded me of myself sometimes. Her natural brown hair had now turned almost entirely blond, giving it a cool ombré look from the dark roots to the bright tips, and her lilac eyes were a reflection of my own.

“Hey kid,” I greeted. “Love the look.” She was wearing a tan jumpsuit, rolled down to her waist, with a black blouse top and plenty of flashy accessories. “I’m pretty sure some of that stuff is lifted though,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

She twisted back and forth with a sly look on her face. “Mayyyybe. I remember you wearing this suit last year and it looked so good. You haven’t worn it since then, so I thought it would be okay.”

“It’s totally okay. Help yourself. Rolling it down because it’s too big is a good move, although…” I looked both ways down the hallway before slipping back into my bedroom. “Come here.”

Willow followed me into my bedroom and I closed the door. I rolled the jumpsuit up, helping Willow pull the arms back on, and I giggled at how limply it hung off of her. There were six years between us and she was a fair amount smaller than me, but rather than allowing it to hang that way, I started to bunch up the jumpsuit from the waist, hiking it up from the bottom and pulling the pant legs up from the ground until they were mid-shin. After that, I grabbed a belt and a pair of roman sandals from my closet and then handed the shoes to Willow before using the belt to secure the jumpsuit in place.

I flipped Willow around so she could look at herself in the mirror hanging on the back of my bedroom door. “There we go.”

Willow quickly pulled on the sandals and then looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. “It looks way better this way!”

“Your way was pretty good, but stick with me. I know how to put things together better than anyone out there.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Arden.”

I flashed her a bright grin through the mirror. “Any time, gorg.”

A single knock preceded the door opening and my mom walked into the room. She looked not much different from myself or Willow, just older and graying. Her figure was slim, but modest—just like the good lord intended it.

She looked Willow up and down like she was wearing a rainbow flag with a ton of cleavage and her whole ass out. “Willow, dear, what are you wearing?” She immediately dropped down and started yanking on the base of the jumpsuit to try and pull the pant legs back down, but the belt didn’t want to give the leeway back. “Sweetheart, go change into something else. Something more appropriate.”

Willow frowned. “But—”

“Quickly, please. Breakfast is ready and then you have to head off to school.” Though she was smiling, her eyes were all ire. Telling Willow do it, or else.

“Yes ma’am,” Willow said, her eyes turned towards the ground. She slipped around our mother and out into the hallway, giving me a sad glance from behind her back before walking off towards her room.

“I think a jumpsuit would have been okay,” I grumbled.

“She is only twelve years old. You shouldn’t be inundating her with your… lifestyle.”

I scoffed. “Oh, tell me more about my lifestyle and how sharing hand-me-downs with my little sister makes me a harlot.”

My mom’s gaze narrowed. “Keep your voice down, Arden,” she growled. “Even you.” She gave my outfit an up and down look with her nose wrinkled up. “You could stand to wear something a bit more… feminine.”

I looked around my room and spied a piece