It's now Friday and for the last couple of days, everything has been the best it's ever been. I've finally been able to let my guard down and I've never been happier. I have great friends, a great family, a great boyfriend and a great new cat.
Me, Peter, Ned and Mj hung out yesterday at Peters and it was the best! We watched Star Wars and ate popcorn for hours after school. Not once were any of us not either laughing or chatting with each other.
"Mr Stark and scary Russian spy have asked for you to find them. It's also time for you to get ready for school." FRIDAY announces and I thank her.
When don't they want something? I jump out of bed, for some reason having a lot of energy and jog into my closet to find an outfit for the day.
"FRIDAY, what's the weather like?" She explains that it's chilly, to put simply. So- sweater and jeans. I grab my favourite pairs and slowly change, knowing my dads waiting.
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(her outfit and hair but you can imagine something different)
I fix my severely messed up hair and wake up Webs once Im done, I swear all he does is sleep.
"Morning Webs" I smile and he yawns in return. Before leaving I stroke him then head to the elevator to find my parents.
After a few minutes I finally spot them and make my way over.
"Avrora! Finally." My dad states, rolling his eyes jokingly.
"What do you guys want, I'm busy." I fire back, giving him a death glare.
"Listen, Rory there's a few HYDRA agents on the run right now so we don't want you going out, you could be a target." Natasha explains. What the fuck.
"That's bullshit! Why can't I leave just because some crazy agents are on the loose!?" I question, fury in my voice.
"Avrora- tone. You can't go out because we said so and that's final." My dad states calmly. I storm out of the kitchen and head to my room but before I can even make it to my door I'm stopped by Pietro.
"Hey- Rors- I heard what happened, you okay? If it makes you feel better, we can't go out either." He's such an idiot, loveable, but an idiot.
"No. It doesn't because you and Wanda never go out anyway." I roll my eyes, causing him to do the same.
"Yeah yeah whatever, since you don't have school can you make me breakfast?" He's useless. "Seriously Pietro, you're older than me and you don't know how to cook?" He pouts at this and I begrudgingly follow him to the kitchen.
As the aroma of cinnamon and vanilla fills the room, I crack the eggs into a bowl, whisking them until they're frothy. The soft bread eagerly awaits its transformation into golden perfection. Dipping each slice into the sweet egg mixture, I watch as it soaks up the flavours, ready to be sizzled on the hot griddle. The butter melts with a gentle sizzle as I place the coated bread slices, now fragrant with warmth and comfort, onto the pan. The sound of the toast crisping and turning a delicious shade of brown is music to my ears.
