Thirty - 6

the boys

RIO

The familiar hum of birds chirping outside my window echos through the room, light from the rising sun beginning to peek in through the cracks of the blinds.

Tiredness overwhelms my body. I am in no way shape or form in the right mindset to wake up right now, no matter how persistent the rays of the sun try to convince me otherwise. I have never been a morning person and I am not starting now.

Rolling over onto my right shoulder, I curl my knees into my chest and reach up to grab onto a pillow to drown out the annoyingly blinding light beginning to consume my bedroom. In the midst of pulling the pillow over to me, I stretch out, subconsciously moving my leg to hook onto - coldness.

The immediate change of temperature snaps me out of my exhausted slumber. I use all of my energy to pry my left eye open to a shitty excuse of a squint and look around the room.

I'm the only one in bed. Where was - and that's when it started.

"I'm hot, you're cold, you go around like you know."

Absolutely not. We are not doing this today satan. I would recognize those annoying voices anywhere, even in my half awake state I'm currently embodying.

Against all rational thoughts I had, I reversed back over to the left side of my bed, tracking my eyes up slowly to the culprits of my insomnia.

"You've got me on my toes..."

There standing, guilty as charged, in the middle of my door frame were the only two people in this whole universe that are able to make me the happiest girl in the world one minute, and make me want to stab them in the eyes with my fingers before pushing them off a cliff another minute.

Right now the cliff option is sounding really cute.

Kale leans against the door frame, grey sweatpants sitting low against his hip bones. His right arm extended above his head to hold on firmly to the top of the entrance, left hand sitting snug in the pocket of his pants. I can tell that he has been up for way longer than I have because the strong musk of the cologne he loves to ritually dowse himself in after a shower reaches all the way across the room. A smug smirk rises on his stupid lips as I shoot daggers towards him as a warning saying "dont try anything K, im not in the mood."

As if perfectly on cue, a set of lanky arms and painted fingernails, wrap around Kale's neck. I'm met with the sight of bushy curly hair and wide eyes. A smile that could quite literally blind you flashes at me and I can't help but let out a small giggle.

Griffin.

If Kale was Aladdin then Griffin could best be described as Abu. His overly hyper monkey sidekick that just so happens to be around every corner you turn, attached to Kale's hip at all times.

A vintage Queen shirt, that I recognized from a flea market the boys and I went to last weekend, sits on Griffins torso - cropped as always. Something catches my attention and I pan my eyesight down to see Griffin wearing a pair of lilac shorts stolen right out of my closet. If I hadn't had the worst sleep of my life last night I would yell at him to ask before stealing my clothes next time, but I can't say no to that face and frankly my brain isn't comprehending much at the current moment.

And so the singing begins again

Moving further into my bedroom, Kale and Griffin raise their voices - awful singing voices at that, to a volume seemingly inappropriate for this ungodly hour. How are they even awake right now? I glance over at my alarm clock that has absolutely no purpose in my life when K and Griffy exist. A bright red 10:00 flashes back at me.