Illusion

Chapter 3

Avery's POV

My alarm blares through the early morning bliss, interrupting a dream that starts to slip away from me the second my eyes crack open.

I close my eyes for a second, green eyes and the smell of mint cloud my mind. No, that can't be right? I shake my head slightly. I never could remember dreams correctly after I've woken up.

Ugh, I really don't want to get up. I shift slightly under the covers and become aware of the odd sensation of feeling extremely hot. My clothes stick to my perspired skin and my face grimaces in disgust. It's probably just because I didn't shower last night.

Why didn't I shower last night? My early morning brain isn't working yet. I desperately need caffeine in me. Or to go back to sleep...

I glance across at my bedside table, seeing my pill bottle. Why was that out?

Shit. I had another nightmare. I haven't had one in so long I almost didn't think that that really happened last night. Flashbacks begin to creep back in and I quickly shake my head, not wanting to reminisce on something I've fought for so long.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my gross feeling clothes making my mind up for me and causing me to hazily get out of bed.

I trudge over to the bathroom, in desperate need of some cold water, and splash my face. I turn the shower on and brush my teeth while waiting for the water to heat up.

Once in the shower, I try to distract myself from thoughts of last night by washing my hair, focusing on massaging the shampoo into my roots. But green eyes swim behind my eyes, making me remember how he acted. How he spoke. What he said.

What he said. Why was I so hung up on his words?

I shake my head to clear my jumbled thoughts. He's just some arrogant guy you met once. You'll probably never even see him again. I roll my eyes at the thought of having to see that pretentious prick somewhere.

I step out of the shower, feeling the sudden chill of the steam filled bathroom. I wrap a towel around my body and make my way to my cupboard, pulling out some clothes. I tug on a pair of washed out jeans and a vintage tee, my self-prescribed uniform for work. I quickly slip into my black hightops and hop slightly unbalanced on one leg as I tie them up.

I dab on some makeup, taking an extra second to make sure my eyeliner was straight, before running my fingers through my air-dried hair, letting it curl in soft waves down my back.

I make my way out of my bedroom towards my front door, grabbing my black trench coat off the hook as I leave and sling my bag over my shoulder, locking my apartment door behind me.

My hightops sink into the thick hallway carpeting of my apartment building as I approach the elevator, pressing the little metal button. My foot taps quickly, muffled by the carpet. God I need a coffee.

I hate waking up. Don't get me wrong, I love mornings. The fresh, crisp air. The quietness of very few cars on the road. The snug clothing due to the chill. The delicious smell of coffee and pastries. I love it all. Just not the waking up part.

The elevator interrupts my blissful thoughts and I tiredly step into the cool compartment, pressing the ground floor. My arms wrap around my stomach and I lean my body against the wall, closing me eyes that are still slightly swollen from sleep.

My mind blanks as I listen to my shallow breaths. All I want to do is be back in bed right now. I can't wait to come home from work today and snuggle up in my bed with a book and some tea.

Okay Avery, enough. Focus on having a good day. Tristan is meant to pick you up after your shift, that'll be fun. Okay, maybe that's a stretch. It'll be nice.