𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 (EDITING)

𝟏𝟗

emerson

Seated at the kitchen table, I finally settled into the comfort of my attire. The black joggers, slightly oversized and effortlessly laid-back, paired perfectly with a navy blue top that hugged my curves, sculpting a silhouette that felt uniquely mine. A white cardigan adorned with a star on each sleeve added a touch of whimsy to the ensemble, while my hair, casually styled in a half-up half-down with a small bow, framed my face in easy elegance.

Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I cleared my throat before taking a sip from the glass of water within reach. The quiet of the kitchen enveloped me, the soft morning light casting a serene glow over the space.

The creak of the door drew my attention, prompting me to glance back. As Florence entered the room, a welcoming smile lit up her face. Returning the gesture, I couldn't help but feel a pang of uncertainty following yesterday's emotional outburst. "How was your night?" she asked, her hands deftly moving about, retrieving items from the fridge.

"Good, I guess," I replied, my voice trailing off as I struggled to articulate the restless night I'd experienced. Thoughts had consumed my mind, leaving sleep a distant hope. The events of yesterday had left me feeling different—changed, and somewhat awkward.

Florence, sensing my hesitation, offered, "Is pancakes okay for breakfast?" Her kindness was a balm to my unease. I nodded in agreement, knowing deep down that my appetite might not match the gesture. "Sure," I murmured, watching her move to prepare breakfast.

Taking a moment, I discreetly glanced at her outfit. She looked stunning—effortlessly chic in a long, silky black skirt paired with a cropped shirt, her hair cascading down in a natural wave. I knew the glam team would soon arrive to work on her hair and makeup, but even in this understated state, she exuded elegance.

"You look stunning," I whispered, meeting Florence's gaze. Her response was a gentle, "Thank you, Darling," accompanied by a subtle blush gracing her cheeks. Offering a small smile, I rose from my seat, finishing the last of my water before placing the glass in the sink and giving it a quick rinse.

"You didn't have to wash it," Florence remarked, turning back towards me. I shrugged my shoulders in response. "It's okay," I uttered softly, a simple act reflecting my need to busy myself, a way to alleviate the swirling thoughts within me.

As I started to move, my steps faltered when I spotted Hailee descending the stairs, looking unexpectedly put together. Confusion knitted my brows—I hadn't anticipated her presence here.

"Hey," she greeted me with a warm smile, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of discomfort at her unexpected appearance. "Hi," I mumbled in response, offering a tentative wave. Her compliment caught me off guard. "You look really beautiful," she remarked, continuing on her path. Compliments weren't something I was accustomed to. "Oh, uh... thank you," I murmured, caught off guard by her praise.

Hailee passed me by and greeted Florence with a cheerful "Good morning." Florence returned the greeting with a small smile, though I noticed a subtle side-eye in Hailee's direction from her. The unexpected encounter left me feeling slightly off-balance, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty swirling within me.

Was she checking her out?

Clearing my throat awkwardly, I shifted my focus away, not wanting to intrude on their interaction. Opting for a seat on the kitchen island, I found myself idly observing, a sense of disinterest settling in as Florence and Hailee engaged in conversation. My attention wavered between their exchange and the process of pancake-making, and I felt a tinge of boredom creeping in.