Love in a Bottle [AATC One-Shots]

Bedhead (Alvittany)

(Brittany's POV)

I rub my eyes and cover my face with my hands. The sun shines through the curtains of the bedroom, and its rays are directly beaming on my face. I groan, thinking about how early it is, and then I begin silently praying that I will fall back asleep.

I had a horrible sleep last night, which usually doesn't happen. I tried to sleep at around nine, but instead, I found myself endlessly scrolling on social media apps. I woke up several times during the night and was constantly shifting in my bed because I was either not tired, or uncomfortable, and the temperature kept changing.

I roll to the other side of my bed, my pink blanket rustling as I turn. I reach over to my phone, which is lying on the white nightstand. It's turned off because I figured that was the main cause of my terrible sleep. I power it on, and I instantly see tons of notifications from different apps—updates, sales, likes, comments—it doesn't stop.

I try to fight the urge to not open any because if I click on one, I will click on all of them. But suddenly, my eyes shift to something else on the screen that catches my attention.

"What the . . . this can't be right," I say, confused, as I squint my eyes trying to see if my lack of sleep might have affected my eyesight.

Finding the energy to, I rise from where I was laying and stretch my arms—there is a slight ache, and stretching seems to relieve all the pain.

I yawn and groggily get out of my bed, leaving it as messy as it is. Normally, that would be a major 'no' since making my bed is the first thing in my morning routine, but I can't find the energy to do so.

I walk over to my older sister's alarm clock to check the time, seeing if it matches the time on my phone. And it's exactly the same.

"Oh my gosh," I say, my eyes widening as I realize how late I had woken up. I notice the treehouse is quiet—as in, no sound at all.

I usually wake up to the sound of Eleanor cooking something for breakfast, and the delicious aroma fills the house. I don't hear Jeanette either, and I hastily walk over to the window. Jeanette always waters her flowers and plants during this time of day, and she's not outside either.

But I expect they did do these things, just earlier. It was almost the afternoon, anyway, and they probably went out. Just to be sure, I call their names from upstairs, and I don't get an answer from either of them. Yep, they're not home.

I don't mind it, and I decide to do my daily morning routine. It should have already started, but I guess I'll make an exception since it's just me.

I yawn and stretch my arms once more as I walk into the bathroom. Barely able to keep my eyes open, I press the light switch beside me and I instantly shut my eyes as I'm struck with the blinding light. I hate when that happens.

After a few seconds, my eyes adjust to the brightness and I exhale. I take a few more steps until I'm in front of the mirror, and my jaw drops as I'm met with my reflection.

I scream.

(Alvin's POV)

I'm staring at the TV, and my fingers are aggressively hitting the buttons on my game controller. My eyes follow my character on the screen, and they widen as I'm about to win.

"Come on, come on . . .," I mutter to myself, because I need to kill one more person in the game and I win. This should be easy.

I can feel my eyes absorbing the screen's brightness, and I've been playing for a few hours so they begin to hurt. Then, I catch sight of my target and I unconsciously begin shouting as I'm so concentrated.