Wanting My Assistant

Chapter 6

   My alarm blares through the morning air and I shoot up, eyes wide and heart pounding. My eyes are blurry from my sleep, raising my hands to rub my eyes with a long yawn. My eyes drift to the large windows, the sky still dark with a few clouds scattered across the large sky. Perfect. Enough time to get up and go for a run. I do a run every morning. Most of the time a mile or two, depending on how fast I go.

   The alarm blares out again and I grab my phone off the bedside table, quickly shutting the alarms off. They're so loud. Then I'm messaging Vanessa. That I'm up and will be at the coffee shop at 6am if all goes well.

But I may need to get to the office sooner. It all depends on Dawson.

I wonder if he's tired from the late night last night?

No! Ugh!

   The blankets rustle as I toss it to the side and slide out of bed. My feet touch the cold flooring and a squeal threatens to leave my mouth. It's fucking cold!

    A gentle sigh leaves me at the silence of my apartment after my feet have adjusted to the cold flooring. The events of last night flash through my mind as I bend down and pull the clear plastic bins out from under my bed. Carefully getting out my leggings and tank top. It's my go to work-out outfit. Yawns pass by my lips, stretching my arms high above my head, my eyes droopy with sleep. They threaten to fall closed any minute. 

   I'm so tired.

   The sky outside is dark, but starting to lighten. The moon shines a gentle light into my cozy apartment. The white accents of my room lighting up gently with the rays. Everything is peaceful, and the city down below is already starting to come to life with a few cars. So far no honking. I always get up early to run during the more calming time of day in the city. On some days though, there is no break.

   The ceiling fan clicks away as I strip of my pajamas. The cold air from my tan touches my skin, making a shiver dance down my back. With a few tilting steps, I manage to yank on my tight black leggings. Then, with another long yawn, I pull on my tank top. Then my hand finds it's way back into my bins, pulling out a pair of freshly cleaned socks.

I pull apart my pair of soft black socks and lift my left foot, struggling to pull it on. I teeter on my right foot. My balance is horrible. Especially this early in the morning. I am, in no way shape or form, a morning person. But I have this set routine that I always follow no matter what that keeps me waking up so fucking early. A little groan leaves me as I fall onto the edge of the bed, my hip pushing into the mattress. I settle for yanking the fabric over my foot.

   It's not graceful. But hell, who cares?

   I slowly do the same to my other foot. Trying to wake myself up. But I'm moving so slowly. My eyelids are heavy, trying to fall closed. My throat is dry, and I probably was out so cold last night that I snored a little. I only do that when I'm so exhausted to the point where I sleep like a rock. I don't wake up for shit. Once my socks are on, I reach over and grab my phone off the table. My eyes glance at the time before slipping it into the stretchy thigh pocket on my left thigh. Pockets in these leggings are life savers. Slowly dragging myself into the kitchen to get a water bottle from the fridge and to grab my Bluetooth headphones. My socked feet glide easily across the tiled flooring but my shoulders are slumped and I feel groggy. Such a late night. Such an early morning.

   When I finally reach the kitchen my hands on the handle to my small fridge. With a little tug, the door pops open. The light from my fridge shines brightly in my eyes, making me wince back with a groan. My eyes close quickly and I'm pretty sure if the light wasn't so bright I'd pass out standing right here. Only after I blink away the pain of the bright light do I reach in and grab a cold water bottle from the chilly fridge. Then close the door to the fridge.