We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, just enjoying each other's company. I let my eyes travel to the little clock next to my bed. It was now ten o' seven.
I untangled myself from Gregory, who stared back at me with bewildered eyes. I had to laugh at his expression.
"What?" he questioned my sanity.
"Your face."
"Oh. And what's so funny about that? I thought you liked my face." He pretended to be hurt.
"Nothing. You thought I was leaving, didn't you?" I replied casually.
He stuck out his pink tongue at me. I had to let a grin slip through.
"Anyway, I have to shower. You need to get your sleep," I told him, standing up and going to my dresser, plucking out simple Sunday clothing; sweatpants, a zip-up hoodie, and a smart-aleck tee.
I closed the door to my bathroom, flicked on the lights, and turned on my space heater. I undressed, and let myself slip into the warm water droplets...
When I finished, I dressed and pulled my red hair back into a ponytail. I skipped out of the bathroom.
Gregory was still sitting by the window. I sighed. "C'mon Greg. You need your sleep," I urged, pulling on his cold arm.
He nodded his head, and let out a fake yawn. I giggled. I pushed him gently onto my bed and gave him a quick kiss.
"I have to go eat now. When I get back, you better be sleeping," I said.
"Yes, m'am."
I skipped down the stairs and danced into the kitchen. My mother was reading the newspaper and sipping coffee.
"I bought some donuts. I'm not sure if you'd like them though. They're all jelly-filled," she told me.
I glanced at the white box on the counter, and swiftly took a small donut. "I'll try one," I offered, and took a tiny bite of the mysterious donut.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Since when did you try any new food?" she asked. "Then again...it could just be hormones..." Her voice trailed off.
I smiled and finished off the wonderful donut. I took out the milk jug and poured some into a glass.
After I was finished with breakfast, I went upstairs to my room, expecting to see Gregory asleep.
But he wasn't. He was in a battle pose, his lips pulled back over his teeth in a snarl. His gleaming red eyes were fixed on my fighting father and Rookery. Uh-oh.
YOU ARE READING
Gregory's Angel
RomanceI wrote this when I was 15 years old so if you think that the main character is really mean to her brother, Tony, it's because in reality I was a bitch to my real brother now that I'm rereading through my stories at 24 years old, I realize how horri...
