Hollow Creek /Finney Blake X Male Oc/

Chapter Two: Morning rituals

Chapter 2: Morning Rituals

Morning, August 11, 1978, 8:22 AM

The sun peeked through the thin curtains of Ethan's new room, casting a warm, golden glow that slowly warmed the walls. He stirred, the softness of the bed cradling him in a comforting embrace. The faint sound of sizzling reached him from downstairs, pulling him from the remnants of sleep. With a reluctant sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, feeling the coolness of the wooden floor against his bare feet.

Ethan shuffled to the bathroom, the tiled floor cold beneath him. He flicked on the light, momentarily blinding himself with the harsh brightness. As he looked into the mirror, he ran a hand through his tousled hair, noting how it stood in all directions. He filled the sink with cool water, splashing it onto his face to wake himself up. The refreshing chill sent shivers down his spine, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep.

After brushing his teeth, Ethan turned on the shower, letting the steam rise around him, enveloping him like a thick fog. The warm water cascaded over him, washing away the remnants of the previous day. He closed his eyes, letting the water soothe him, a brief moment of tranquility before diving back into the chaos of the day ahead. The scent of his new body wash-a fresh, citrusy fragrance-filled the small bathroom, mingling with the steam as he lathered up.

Once he stepped out, Ethan wrapped himself in a towel, the soft fabric warm against his skin. He quickly dressed in a comfortable T-shirt and denim shorts, a nod to the lazy summer day ahead. As he made his way down the stairs, the tantalizing aroma of breakfast wafted through the air, drawing him closer to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, his mom, Sarah, was a whirlwind of activity. She stood at the stove, deftly flipping pancakes with one hand while stirring a pot of bubbling oatmeal with the other. The kitchen counter was a colorful array of breakfast items: golden-brown pancakes piled high, crispy bacon sizzling in its own grease, and a platter of fresh-cut fruit-juicy strawberries, tangy orange slices, and plump blueberries.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Sarah chirped, glancing over her shoulder with a bright smile. She was wearing an apron with cheerful flowers that seemed to dance as she moved. "Hope you're hungry! I made your favorite!"

"Smells amazing!" Ethan replied, his stomach growling at the sight of the feast laid out before him.

"Just in time!" she said, pouring a glass of orange juice, the bright liquid glistening in the morning light. "Your dad is just about to finish reading the news. He's been on the lookout for anything about the neighborhood."

Ethan turned to find his dad, James, seated at the kitchen table, a newspaper spread open in front of him. He sipped a steaming cup of coffee, the rich aroma filling the room. With tousled hair and a slightly worn look from the previous night, he looked up from the paper, his brow furrowed as he scanned the headlines.

"Morning, buddy," he said, a faint smile creeping across his face as he caught sight of Ethan. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah, pretty well," Ethan replied, grabbing a plate and loading it up with pancakes and bacon. He poured syrup over the stack, letting it drizzle down the sides.

James nodded, taking another sip of his coffee before returning to the newspaper. "Just checking for any updates on the community. Gotta stay informed, especially with everything going on."

Ethan's heart skipped at the mention of the town's troubles. He tried to shake off the unease, focusing instead on the warmth of his mom's cooking and the comfort of family routines. The kitchen buzzed with the sound of utensils clanging, the sizzling of food, and the soft hum of the radio playing in the background, filling the air with the familiar sounds of a typical Saturday morning.