A/N: hey hey this is my first fanfic so I apologize in advance if it sucks and it isn't original and stuff so like yeah, enjoy :)
~ your friendly neighborhood person that appreciates your existence, Hilly Bun <3
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*Dallon's POV*
It's been the same routine almost everyday all year, and I don't understand how I'm not used to it yet.
Wake up. It's like the stupid ass alarm clock knows the perfect time to go off, to make me just the right amount of pissed off. Y'know, that awkward position you get into where you're trying to stay positive about the upcoming day's events, but you remember how peacefully you were sleeping? That amount of pissed off.
I try to get out of bed peacefully, but I can't help but to stumble around. And I'm not even a clumsy person. Well, for the most part. Mumbling something that won't be relevant later, I manage to drag myself out of bed and over to my bathroom so I can climb into the shower, only now realizing I haven't even undressed yet.
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I step out of the shower, seemingly feeling much more refreshed than before. I reach over to the cabinet door under my sink and pull out one of my 'emergency towels', considering I had forgotten to grab one from the closet in the hallway on my way in. I do it at least once a week, it is the early hours of the morning after all. I think that gives me an excuse.
After quickly drying myself off and wrapping the small towel around my waist (for reasons I don't quite understand, me living alone and all) I saunter back to my room where I slip on some formal-ish clothes. whatever you'd like to call the most casual clothes one would be able to wear into the workplace, without getting some questioning eyes turn your way, that is.
Basically dragging myself down the stairs I debate whether or not to have a bite to eat before I head out. I don't normally, but it seems as if I've got some extra time on my hands this morning.
I decide on grabbing a banana and comb through my still slightly damp hair with my fingers, not caring to find a brush. What I do need to focus on finding is my binder of lesson plans. that's really all I need, being a music teacher.
In what felt like half an hour I find my binder sitting under some old newspapers on top of the microwave. Not as much time to spare now. I walk to the door, quicker than most might I add because of my long ass legs, throw on a pair of shoes, not bothering to lace them up and hurry out the door, almost forgetting my keys in the process.
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A/N: all apologies for the multiple author's notes but lil chapter to get us started here. the rest of the story won't be as slow moving as this was here but I wasn't really sure how to start off, so I just decided to do this weird thing, whatever it is.
~ Hilly Bun <3
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