The Outlier

THIRTY-FIVE

"Wake up, Kai!" 

My conscience returned to me as I felt an ice-cold object pressing against my cheek. Hisses urging me to wake up remained as audible as they were consistent. 

"Are you in a coma?" the voice huffed, its melodic voice growing more gravelly as their exasperation increased. "WAKE UP!" 

Cold hands began shaking me awake and, much to my misfortune, I no longer had the liberty of ignoring the voice as it got increasingly aggressive and persistent. Finally giving up, I opened one of my eyes, peeking through to see what all the nonsense was. 

"Oh, good heavens! It certainly took you long enough to wake up," an annoyed Edward Cullen grunted. 

I glanced at the alarm clock on my nightstand, worried I had missed a deadline or something before. It was Saturday, I was positive I didn't have work or any assignments to work on last minute.

"You bloody tosspot, it's five," I grunted, my voice sounding significantly deeper. "What is so important that I have to wake up before the sun is out?" 

"The date I have planned that is certainly worth losing a couple hours of sleep," Edward quipped. 

"Date?" I echoed in confusion. 

"Yes, I have a date planned," Edward repeated. "Now, will you get ready? I don't want to miss it." 

Not without a groan, I got up and started rummaging through my wardrobe for something to wear other than my faded band t-shirt and boxer shorts. 

As summer approached, it was getting easier to wear shorts and revealing clothing around the house without scares of hypothermia. The new weather allowed for me to wear more clothes from my wardrobe that didn't make me look like a bank robber or— as my dad would say— a tramp. 

When I was fully awake, I noted that Edward's clothing didn't change at all from its usual appearance. I doubted he needed to change his outfit to accommodate the weather since he sported the same body temperature all year long. He wore the same pale blue billowy oxford shirt I often saw him donning and a pair of beige slacks that ended an inch above his brown chelsea boots. 

He looks so good, I thought to myself. I was going to compliment him out loud too, but my grumpiness at the inconvenient timing of his date took over and I kept my silence. 

After I picked out my outfit, another loose t-shirt and baggy jeans combo that I was all too familiar with, I dragged my feet to the bathroom to do the rest of my 'getting ready' while Edward occasionally knocked on the door telling me to hurry up. 

I decided against doing my makeup, seeing as being half asleep and trying to do a precise eyeliner wasn't the best combination. I misted my hair down with water, an attempt at taming it before deciding I was decent and changed into my clothes.  

Edward, by the time I was ready, was sitting downstairs on the faded floral sofa, tapping his foot impatiently. Edward ran up the stairs and pulled me by my hand, only giving me a moment's mental preparation before we were off. 

"I'm going to run with you in my arms, alright?" 

"I beg your pardo—" 

And he was off for the third, maybe fourth time. Wind whipped all around us as our surroundings blurred. I bit my tongue just before I was ready to berate him for the lack of warning he was so used to giving me. 

It felt like a few hour-long minutes before Edward finally came to a halt and stopped running. When he slowly let me back on my feet, the smell of damp ferns and plants was evident. The air felt moist and I could feel mosquitoes buzzing near my ears.