surprises

➢ surprise four

authors note:
yo. feeling gangster. i'm actually not. anyway, moving on. EDITED. have fun, and uh, hope you like it! don't forget to vote and comment maybe follow if you're feeling nice :)

           ➢ ➣ ➤

     Squeezing my eyes shut, I covered my face with my hands as rays of sunlight shone through my balcony window. Rolling over and twisting my bed sheets around my legs in the process, I grabbed my phone off the bedside table and checked the time, slowly opening one eye. 8:03.

     Letting out a muffled groan, I rolled over to the edge of the bed, throwing my legs off the side and sitting up. It was absolutely freezing! My sheets were still wound around my body, keeping me slightly warm. I went to stand up, however I slipped on the sheets under my feet and went crashing down, not very gracefully, onto the freezing wooden floor. "Cold, cold, cold." I muttered, pushing myself off the floor and throwing the blanket that had fallen, back on the bed.  

     I quickly ran a hand through my hair, untangling some of the knots that had formed overnight. I took a quick look in the mirror, tugging my flimsy pyjama shorts down a tad. I seriously needed pyjama pants. With that in mind, I walked towards the door, gently turning the knob to open it and letting it click softly behind me.

     I had no idea what kind of sleepers anyone in this household were, so my thoughts so far were to sneak around the house, getting my breakfast.

     I padded down the hall, trudged down the two flights of stairs, and swung off the banister, my fluffy socks sliding across the wooden floor. "Shit!" I whisper shouted, nearly coming into contact with the floor for the second time this morning. I steadied myself, and walked down the hall and past the many rooms to the kitchen. Maybe I was actually learning my way around the house. At least something was going my way this week.

     Walking towards the cupboard, I swung them open, catching the left side of the door before it crashed into the wall behind, grimacing as I did so. Peeking into the breakfast cereals, I spotted a pancake mix sitting in the corner. Shrugging, I pulled it out, nearly knocking a box of weet-bix off the shelf in the process.  Shaking the batter, I walked towards the tap, turning it on and adding some water to the container. I continued shaking it, making my way to the stove, where a clean fry pan was already placed on top. I started pouring some into the pan, going to grab a spatula while it cooked.

     "Make some for me, will you?"

     I jumped about a foot in the air, bumping my wrist on the drawer, totally startled. Turning around slowly to face the sleepy voice, I saw a tired Lachie, grinning lop-sidedly at me from his seat on the counter. As I did so, I mentally groaned, wondering why it was so hard for a guy to put a shirt on. Not that I was looking or anything. No way.

     "Um," I mumbled, fumbling with the spatula in my hands. "Sure" I replied, walking over to the pan and flipping the pancake which was this close to burning. I leant back against the cool bench-top, spinning the utensil in my hand.

     Honestly, I never used to be this awkward. Really. Maybe accident-prone, yes. But definitely not this awkward when it comes to talking to new people. Or maybe I just thought that. Oh god.

     Noticing Lachies eyes wandering down from my face, I looked down as well, realizing that my white singlet didn't do a great job at covering my bra, and my shorts, which I already knew, were way to short, for a breakfast with a hormonal teenage boy. Crossing my arms lightly over my chest, I cleared my throat awkwardly, turning around to put the pancake on a plate, pouring more batter into the pan.