Magicians (Re Draft)

X- Will

X-Will

The morning light fell across the sheets of my bed through the window, leaving a scarlet color.

I groaned and rolled on my side, shoving my head underneath the cool bottom of my pillow.

The tweeting of the birds was muffled out as I squeezed the pillow over my head.

Suddenly, my door opened.

"For the love of Merlin, Will!" My uncle sighed leaning against my door frame. "Get that lazy butt of yours out of bed!"

I gave a long, zombie like moan as my uncle shuffled himself into my room.

"This room is a disgusting mess. By the nine netherworlds, if your mother was here she would hit you upside the head with a frying pan!"

"Well she isn't here," I said under my covers.

"That is still no reason for you to live in a trash pile. Shall I get your girlfriend to help you clean?" He uncle smirked.

I sat up, my wild black hair sticking up.

"Roses room isn't perfect spotless ether uncle. There floppy hats everywhere and it smells like smoke. I swear, is the stove vented to her room?" I moaned.

"I'll take a look at it. Meanwhile, how about you put on some pants and get to working in the shop. Today is a busy day. I have twenty readings and a shipment of teeth coming in at noon," my uncle said while shutting my room door as he left.

I gave out another tiresome groan and fell back onto my pillow.

...

My bedroom door opened once again. But this time, it was Rose.

"Oh for the love of Nellie, Will get up!" She grumbled while walking over to my bed where I was out cold.

Rose sat on the edge of my bed and brushed my hair gently out of my eyes.

I moaned as she chuckled and nudged my shoulder.

"Wakey Wakey."

"Ugh," I groaned while opening my eyes, letting the rising noon light burn my vision.

Rose smirked and looked up, gazing around my room.

"Wow. This place is a mess."

"Not you too," I grumbled. "My room can't take this much of critique."

She rolled her eyes and looked at my window sill. Her body moved forward as she picked something up.

"Is this your mom?"

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and sat up. Rose held the picture frame with the one of very few photos of my mother I had.

"Yeah," I yawned while taking the frame from her. I grazed my hand across the cool, glass surface as Rose said something that caught me by surprise.

"Wheres your father, Will?"

I gasped as a flood of memories hit me hard.

"Wheres daddy?" My five year old self would say to my mother constantly.

"He's busy, pumpkin," my mother would reply.

Turns out he is always busy. But it is much more complicated than that.

"My father," I started. I frowned as a tad of anger and fury washed down on me. "I don't like talking about him."

My Rose paused then nodded.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," I replied while putting the picture back in its place. "I'll meet you down stairs after I get dressed."