Your Guardian Angel (BxB)

Chapter 3: A Beautiful Nightmare

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains allusions of self-harm and death. Proceed with caution.

The pic is Mika.

~

The obnoxious sound of my alarm going off brings me from my sleep. Groaning, I turn it off and pull myself into a sitting position. My head hurts and I'm still tired. I was up late last night, rewatching Death Note because I couldn't fall asleep, I must've dozed off at some point after that. Man, I feel like shit. Note to self, don't stay up late rewatching Death Note.

I grab my glasses off of my nightstand and stand up, feeling lightheaded. My room is almost completely pitch black, and I can hear rain falling against the window. Oh great. I feel like shit, it's raining out, and it's a Monday. What a terrible combo.

I quickly change into jeans, a black Nirvana hoodie and slip on my shoes, and head downstairs. The lights are already on and I can hear the murmurs of the news playing on the TV. Running one hand through my hair in an attempt to make it look a little less messy, I trudge into the kitchen.

"Morning, kiddo." My dad, who's sitting at the table, drinking coffee and reading something on his phone, greets me. I mumble something incoherent back as a reply and start searching the cabinet for the bagels. Maybe eating something will get me to wake up a bit. Or at least help my headache.

"You look tired. Were you up late?" Dad asks, an amused tone in his voice. I don't say anything at first, I'm too focused on searching the fridge for the cream cheese.

"Uh...no. I'm always wide awake, I never stay up late, why would I do that?" I mentally facepalm at how stupid I sound. Then again, I do tend to say stupid shit when I'm really tired.

Dad starts laughing and I hear the scraping of the chair behind me, signaling that he's standing up. "Are you sure about that?" He opens the fridge and pulls out a small container. "You do know that what you're holding isn't cream cheese, right?" I look closer at the container I'm holding, and sure enough, it's not cream cheese. It's cottage cheese. Yuck.

I awkwardly take the cream cheese container from Dad, who's still laughing. "Thanks." I mumble.

"Alright, well, I'm heading out. I'll probably be home late tonight." He tells me as he pulls his car keys from his pocket.

"You're always home late, Dad." I say through a mouthful of food. Okay, I'm exaggerating. My dad works as a guidance counselor at a high school about an hour away from mine. He's a fairly busy guy, but he's not always home late.

He chuckles once again and waves goodbye, exiting through the front door. Outside, I see the headlights turn on and pull out of the driveway, disappearing down the road. Alone once again. I glance at the stove clock. 6:55 A.M. Okay, time to head out. Finishing my bagel, I hoist my backpack up over my shoulder and head out the door. The sky is starting to brighten up, and the rain has slowed down a bit. I pull my hood over my head and start walking.

~

By the time I reach the school, I'm starting to feel a bit better. Getting some fresh air seemed to do the trick. My headache has gone away, though I'm still feeling really tired. Maybe I can take a nap when I get to class. I have World History for first period, and so far, the only thing we're doing is taking notes. It's nothing that really requires me to stay awake.

"Nico!" I hear someone call my name behind me as I'm nearing the entrance. I glance over my shoulder to see a girl running towards me, a wide grin on her face. As she gets closer, she skids slightly from the wet sidewalk, and I quickly reach out and grab her arm so she doesn't fall.

"Hey, Mika." I greet her, letting go of her arm and returning the smile. I've been friends with Mika since we were in first grade. She truly is the nicest girl I've ever met, but how she's always in a good mood, even right now when we're standing soaked in the rain, is beyond me. We enter the school and walk through the halls towards our lockers in silence. "You're pretty quiet today. No news to share?" I ask once we reach my locker.