A Cup of Fate

8th Phase: The Offbeat Breakfast

8th Phase: The Offbeat Breakfast

“You can decorate absence however you want- but your still gonna feel what’s missing.” 

― Siobhan Vivian, Same Difference

_____________

I don't know how long that ray of sunlight has been peeking through the gaps on the blinds before it finds its way to my face; nor do I know how long it takes me to become aware of it. I flutter my eyes open, expecting to see the wonderful star-painted ceiling that greets me good morning every single day- but this time, there are no stars.

I have been only away from home for a day and I'm awfully missing it already. The bed feels different. It is not as soft as my mattress at home. The pillows are not fluffed up right. The lighting in the room is too bright for me perceive. The walls are just bare structures- and the ceiling... The ceiling is just an endless piece of nothingness. There is nothing special about it. There are no stars to bid me good morning, giving me a pint of hope in my being. There are no stars that guided my dreams last night- now how am I supposed to go back to it? No one watches me sleeping while my thoughts argue about things I can't seem to remember- because there are no stars to come in between them. 

Things may seem different without the stars painted above me and all the other things that looks unfamiliar, but I still wake up in a gentle ease. It feels different, yes. But it is a good kind of different. I think that maybe, at some point, these brand new changes that welcomes me to this morning grace ought to tell me I'm entering a new phase in my life. A life where I can live without the stars and still wake up every single morning with a smile planted on my not so ravishing visage. 

I have the urge to yawn, stretching my arms skyward. The smell of morning dew fills the room. Funny how my morning seems well. It is not one of those moments where I'll open my eyes then shut them again, drifting myself into another sleep. 

I breathe. I rub my knuckles into my eyes to drive away any urges of sleep. I grope for my phone hiding within the sheets on the bed and look at the time. It reads 7:14 AM. I bolt up from bed. I walk the floor from the edge of the bed to the bathroom and take a quick morning bath. After freshening myself, I put my hair into a bun as I face the mirror. I bat my eyelids. My eyes feel sore... and I remember last night. Harry. I. And that talk.

I take a deep breath and start to pace out of the room. As I open the door, the aroma of freshly made omelet fumes the entire room. I prance my way to the kitchen as I sense food being prepared as of this moment. I peer through the door frame and observe Liam in the kitchen making breakfast.

“Hm-mm.  It smells good.“ I compliment, leaning over the counter, watching Liam do his thing. 

“Good morning, Maggie.” Liam greets with a beaming grin whilst flipping the egg with a spatula. 

“I didn’t know you can cook. I was thinking you have someone else to do that for you.”  I place my elbows flat on the surface of the counter top, resting my chin on the heel of my hands. 

“Well, if you must know, we may be One Direction, but were still normal lads living the normal life.” Liam answers humbly, placing the last batch of omelet on the pearl white plate. 

“If I must say, you guys really impressed me. You’re not really bad as I think you were.” I admit, amicably. 

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Liam replies, preparing six plates on the hardwood table on the dining area. 

“Let me help you with that.” I offer. I grab six pairs of eating utensils and place them beside each plate. Not a moment longer, Niall and Louis arrive both with groggy faces, drooped eyes and nest-like hair.