The Blueness of a Blue Wild Flower

Chapter I

THE 24TH OF AUGUST, THE 14TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE SECOND MILLENIUM'S ARRIVAL; 7:29 P.M.

"Ashworth!" called out a disembodied, soft-spoken, feminine voice. It was followed by a few knocks on the door, "Oh Aquila, we're going to be late, and on the first day?" it ranted.

Aquila Augustus Ashworth, 13-year old lad, an immigrant from Britain, lay sleeping on his bed, on his chest, with a hand hanging from his queen-sized mattress' side, with his wavy and messy hair covering much of his face. He responded only with a tongue of gibberish as he complained of the noise.

"If you don't come out here, I'll definitely come in there myself," said the voice as its relentless knocking continued to ravage his state of deep slumber.

As the sound of the smooth creaking of the door filled his room, passing through his peachy skin, and finally his perceptive, half-asleep, ears, Aquila only muttered words even beyond the comprehension of the gods themselves. It was followed by the silence piercing through his ears with the fear of disturbance at its tip, but barely showing any care, with the last of it focused all on his troubled mind's rest. A few moments silence later, he felt a sudden and strong pressure his back and a kiss on his left cheek, as he felt the voice's long wavy hair caress his name and face.

"Wake up Aquila. Please," said the voice, softly to his ear, as he felt a veil of warmth embrace him and warm fingers creep towards his hands, "It's time for you to wake up."

"And it's time to for you to sod off," he murmurred to his pillow, "bloody wanker." He then turns her over, carries and drops the small and soft body of warmth into his chest while he groaned of discontent.

"Awww. Why'd you have to do that?" asked the voice softly into his ears as he felt its limbs wrapped around his well-toned body.

"Shut up, can't I get like five more minutes for you barging in here?" he said.

"I guess?" it answered with a giggle, as he felt her head on his chest, "Is it just me, or has your British heartbeats been a bit slower lately?"

"Kiwi, for the love of your god, stop asking things, have you forgotten I still have five minutes?" Aquila grimaced as he groaned.

"Blah blah blah, have you forgotten the 5 minutes?" the voice imitated in a sarcastic tone, while he felt a nose dig its way on his chest, "You know, you still smell nice even if you haven't taken a bath yet," she added.

In a span of a sixty seconds, he felt light pressures on both of his shoulders. When he opened his eyes after letting out a moan of discontent, his tired eyes locked its emerald pupils upon a pair of hazel pupils of an almond-eyed young girl, with her left sophisticated natural eyebrow was curled observantly, as her long wavy auburn hair served as a background for her palely peachy toned oval-shaped face. She let out a devious smirk as her dimples revealed to Aquila's choleric face.

"What the bloody buggering hell are you doing Kiwi?"

"Trying to wake your lazy ass up."

"Fine," he sighed and huffed as he tried to stand, "I'm going to spend a penny and freshen up,  and go make yourself busy with my piano," Aquila added as he looked, while he sat on the side of his bed, at Kiwi.

She stood as a petite, wearing a red checkered skirt and a v-necked long-sleeved white sweat shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to the third fourth of her arms, with a scarlet ribbon and a grey vest visible below her neck. 

He later walked towards and tried to reach one of his bathing towels neatly hung around on a cabinet railing. He immediately turned to his eyes to the digital rectangular clock hanging above his head. "7:29 A.M.," he read the large numbers. His eyes thinned as his sight tried to reach for the small text above the time, "August 24, 2014."