Chapter 10--First traces

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Guide:

(F/C): Favourite Colour

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BE--

"Oh that stupid alarm clock!" you muttered, rolling over on the bed and slamming the off button with your left hand. You slowly rose from your own bed, rubbing your eyes and yawning, focusing your sight on the beautiful day outside. The sun was out, the sky was blue, there were some white clouds in the sky, and the autumn leaves were slowly falling onto the ground below. It was a perfect kind of day--not too hot, not too cold, and most definitely, fresh and renewing.

"(Y/N)!" you heard Mr. Lacitier's droning voice call you up from downstairs. "Get up! Get up!"

You groaned again and got off the bed, changing into your favourite outfit--a (F/C) zip-up hoodie with a pair of black sweat pants and white socks. Putting your hair in a side ponytail, you raced down the stairs and saw Mr. Lacitier in the kitchen, clearly absorbed in his own cereal as he read the news.

"Good morning, Mr. Lacitier," you greeted him, smiling.

Mr. Lacitier took a good look at you and shook his head in disgust. "Now, look at you! What in the world are you wearing? This doesn't look like you at all! This isn't what girls are supposed to wear!"

"Says who?" you challenged. "It's getting colder out anyway. Can't I at least wear something warm?"

Mr. Lacitier let out a huff. "Alright, fine. You can wear this." He then turned his attention back to his newspapers.

Shrugging, you started to prepare a bowl of milk with cereal, and also grabbed a couple slices of bread and toasted them up, grabbing a jar of Nutella in the meanwhile. When the toast was done, you spread the bread with Nutella, put them all on a plate, and carried your plate of toast and your cereal to the table. To finish it off, you also grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and sliced it up, putting all the slices in another bowl and bringing it to the table.

"Ahh," you sighed contently, grabbing an apple slice and devouring it.

Mr. Lacitier looked surprised. "You...could make your own food?"

You shrugged. "What else can I do when my parents aren't around to help?"

"Oh," Mr. Lacitier said, a hint of mock surprise in his voice.

You shrugged again. "You have a problem with that?"

"Oh no! No! No no no, not at all," Mr. Lacitier insisted, shaking his head.

Huh.

You finished off your apples and started eating your toast and cereal, and Mr. Lacitier was still reading his newspaper. An uncomfortable air settled around you, and you winced as you felt a chill go down your spine.

Dang. Mr. Lacitier sure IS creepy.

"When do you leave for school?" Mr. Lacitier asked you, clearly bored.

"Oh, not for another half an hour," you replied, finishing off the last of your milk and washing all of your dishes.

"Do you always do your own chores?" Mr. Lacitier asked you with a slight tone of mock fascination now.

"Mhmm," you nodded, putting all of your dishes in the rack before heading upstairs to your room to reorganize your backpack and jam away to some awesome music. You failed to notice, however, that the moment you closed the door to your bedroom, Mr. Lacitier got up from the kitchen table and ran up to his room, grabbing a couple herbs and plants and liquids and several vials and beginning to mix and brew...something.

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