Forced to be my sisters lover in a reverse world-Chapter 27: morning

I jolted awake, covered in sweat. My phone screen burned my eyes when I picked it up—7 a.m. A "short nap" had turned into a full-on sleep.
"Oh, fuck," I groaned, dragging myself out of bed. My head felt heavy, and my hair stuck to my neck. I smelled awful—no way I could show up like this.
Grabbing a towel, I rushed into the bathroom and cranked the shower on full blast. The water hit me hard and hot, washing away the grime and the fog in my head. I scrubbed until I felt human again, like I could actually face the world—and Noah—without feeling gross.
I scrubbed so hard I thought I might've bled—my skin was red and tender under the hot spray, each droplet stinging like pins.
Still, I didn't stop until I felt clean, like I'd washed away every trace of confusion that clung to me from last night.
Stepping out, I grabbed a towel and rubbed myself dry, the fabric scratching over my sore skin. My blonde hair clung to my neck and shoulders, heavy with water. I tied it up into a messy bun, a few loose strands falling across my face. The mirror was fogged, but I could still make out the faint flush on my cheeks.
I reached for the lotion and spread it over my arms and legs, the coolness making me flinch before it melted into my skin. The faint scent of vanilla filled the room. I didn't know why, but the thought of Noah popped into my head again, and without realizing it, I smiled.
Noah needed to see me in top shape.
"What—no—why do I need to impress him?" I muttered, my voice cracking slightly as I shook my head, annoyed with myself.
I slipped into my dark green bra, then grabbed my black shirt and pulled it over my head, the fabric soft but snug. My hands trembled a little as I reached for my leather jacket—the one my dad gave me before he passed from the cancer. The smell of worn leather hit me, grounding and familiar. I slid it on but didn't bother zipping it, letting it hang open naturally.
My arms felt heavy, muscles tight from last night's pushups and punches. Every small movement made them ache, but I didn't care. I looked at myself one more time in the mirror, chest rising and falling steadily.
Somehow, I didn't feel like the same girl who went to sleep last night.
I grabbed a pair of underwear and slipped them on before reaching for my black jeans—the only kind I ever wore. Dad used to say black brought good luck to our family, and after everything that had happened, I wasn't about to stop believing that.
The denim felt cool against my skin as I pulled them up, fitting snugly around my hips. I hopped a little to get them all the way on, the waistband tightening around my waist. My thighs, still firm and a little sore from last night, disappeared into the dark fabric as I buttoned them up.
I ran my hands down the sides, smoothing out the wrinkles, and looked at myself again in the mirror. The jeans hugged my shape just right—comfortable, practical, strong. Just how I wanted to feel.
I walked into the living room, spotting my mom perched at the table, sipping her coffee in her usual morning haze.
"You got work today, mom?" I asked, my voice breaking the quiet hum of the kitchen. She gave a small nod, eyes fixed on her mug as she took another slow sip.
"Okay... can I have some money?" I continued, knowing she hated cooking and I'd end up grabbing something from the corner store anyway.
"Here." She replied, sliding a twenty-dollar bill across the table with a casual flick. I snatched it up and shoved it into my pocket, my damp blonde hair dripping onto the wood, leaving a faint trail.
"Thanks, mom." I muttered, but she didn't respond, only giving a brief glance my way before returning to her coffee. I turned on my heel and headed back to my room to grab my backpack, the morning routine settling into its usual rhythm.
I stepped out the door without another word. Mom didn't look up, didn't even blink. Honestly, I could probably disappear off the face of the earth and she wouldn't notice until next year—if that.
That was just how life was for me. Cold, detached, routine. Still, I swore to myself that when I had kids, I'd never be like her. I'd be the kind of mom who noticed—who cared.
The morning air hit harder than I expected, sharp and cold, biting against my cheeks. November had fully sunk its teeth in. My eyes stung a little from the wind as I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets.
Along the way, I watched pairs of older sisters walking their little brothers to school—bundled up, laughing, sharing snacks. It was... sweet. A tiny ache formed in my chest. I wanted that someday—a son I could protect, guide, maybe walk to school on mornings like this.
I turned down the familiar street toward the corner store, my boots crunching against the frost-speckled pavement. A few guys passed by, walking alone, their eyes darting away the moment they saw me. Their shoulders tensed, their pace quickened. It stung a little every time.
I hated that they were scared of me. I'd never hurt them—not on purpose. But I guess a strong girl with muscle and a stare was enough to make them think otherwise.
"Come on, just give me a chance, boy, come here..." a disheveled woman slurred, her voice thick with desperation.
She leaned in too close, her breath reeking of cheap liquor, trying to force a kiss on a wide-eyed schoolboy who was just trying to get to class. His backpack hung loosely off one shoulder as he recoiled, his small frame tense with fear.
"Hey!" I bellowed, storming toward them with heavy steps, my boots thudding against the cracked pavement. "Leave the kid alone, you fucking creep!" My voice echoed in the quiet alley, sharp enough to cut through the distant hum of traffic. I squared my shoulders, trying to make myself look bigger, hoping to scare her off with sheer presence.
She turned to me, her eyes glassy and unfocused, a sneer curling her chapped lips. "Mind your own damn business. He's my boyfriend," she lied, her words dripping with a pathetic attempt at conviction. Her hand clutched the boy's arm, manicured nails digging into his sleeve.
I stepped closer, my jaw tight, heat rising in my chest. "I'm not in the mood for this bullshit. Get lost before I break your face." My voice was low, a growl, every word deliberate.
I stared her down, fists clenched at my sides, but she didn't budge. She stood there, chin jutted out defiantly, as if she thought she could intimidate me with her wobbly stance.
"Come on, babe, let's go," she cooed to the boy, yanking at his arm with a rough tug. His face twisted in discomfort, his sneakers scraping the ground as he tried to pull back, his quiet "no" barely audible.
That was it. I closed the distance in two strides, my patience gone. My fist shot forward, connecting with her nose with a sickening crunch.
Blood gushed instantly, a crimson stream spilling over her mouth and chin, staining the front of her faded jacket. Her eyes rolled back, and she crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll, out cold before she even hit the pavement.
I stood over her for a second, breathing hard, adrenaline pumping through me. Then I turned to the boy, softening my tone. "You okay, kid?" He nodded shakily, eyes wide as saucers, and mumbled a quiet thanks before scurrying off down the street.
I watched him go, making sure he was clear, before glancing back at the woman sprawled on the ground, her chest rising and falling unevenly.
"That should be a lesson to not be a fucking weirdo." I said, spitting at her before giving one last kick to her stomach. Her unconscious form didn't respond at all.
I continued my walk to the convenience store, pushing open the door and taking in the smell of snacks and coffee. "So much shit, I'm so hungry..." I muttered, my stomach growling in agreement. I grabbed two honey buns and a chocolate protein shake—should hold me over until lunch, hopefully.
My thoughts drifted to Noah, like always. I grabbed a packet of mini donuts for him; he loved them, always snatching them from the school vending machines. "I don't think he'd want something sugary for a drink..." I said, eyes scanning the fridges until I picked out a water for him. That should be enough.
I paid for everything and stepped back outside. Downing my protein shake and scarfing the honey buns too fast, I let out a loud, satisfying burp and started walking toward the bus stop where I'd meet Noah, the morning air biting at my cheeks.