earl grey and eyeliner (dodie clark)

One~

*first things first, just because I know it'd drive me mad not knowing, Eirlys is pronounced 'Eye-lease'. Now, enjoy!*
"Poppy! Poppy, are you ready?" I hear faintly from downstairs, pulling me from sleep. My vision is blurry, but I start to focus and realise I'm sat at my desk, my face tucked into my hand comfortably. My laptop is open in front of me, with my English essay that I was halfway through proofreading open and my Spotify playlist playing through my headphones, loud enough to hear from them dangling off my desk. How on Earth did I manage to sleep with that in my ear?
"Ah, yes, I think, yes! Hold up!" I call back, my head spinning as I try to stand, exhausted. I grab a dusty pink pullover and black leggings, trying to look put together whilst definitely not being. I glance in the mirror, and decide my messy braided hair from last night will do, and grab my makeup bag to do as much as I can in the car.
"Oh god, did you fall asleep in the two seconds I left you?" Eirlys teases, stroking a stray charcoal lock behind my ear as I pull a long grey cardigan on whilst stuffing my feet into old black faded Doc Martins.
"Uhm, no, I just... time just ran away with me. We're not late, are we?" I ask anxiously, craning my head to glance at a clock, ANY clock in this tiny apartment.
"No, we're not. I set my alarm for half an hour earlier than I needed as I knew you'd fall back asleep" she smiles knowingly, because of course Eirlys knew, she's the most organised person I think could possibly exist on this planet. If two of them existed, the risk that they'd meet and implode in homemade dinners, clean dishes, alarm clocks and stainless steel would just be too high.
"Dear god, you're an angel, what would I do without a best friend like you?" I gush, trying to find the keys on the messy side table. It's only a mess because I was the last one in last night, far later than I meant to considering I had work the next morning and was fully aware of it, nevertheless choosing to ignore that fact and stay out until 4am with my other best friends, seemingly from another world than Eirlys; Lena, Daniel, Samantha, Lukas, Aya and Ruby. I have no doubt Eirlys knew this, but of course she didn't mention it, she simply kept me in order when she could and floated through life being perfect, flipping her white blonde hair with perfect highlights and blinking her enticing green cat eyes with beautifully long lashes and driving every boy crazy, whilst spending every waking hour either working, going to uni, being adored by her gorgeous boyfriend of five years or shopping, watching movies and sipping coffee with her equally perfectly group of girlfriends.
I'm not bitter, just incredibly jealous. Me and Eirlys may as well be from two different planets, but we've been best friends since nursery and we do everything together - we share an apartment, work in the same snug cafe, attend the same university. Like I said, it's been this way pretty much as long as I can remember, and I never want it to change. She's my rock; she keeps me sane. I'm not sure what exactly I bring to the friendship, but she's not dumped me yet.
"Hmm, probably be fired" she laughs, holding up the keys she's already holding.
I pull her in for a quick hug, smelling her rose perfume, which reminds me to quickly attack myself with Lynx Black as Eirlys opens the door and we both tumble out, flinging ourselves into the car. Whilst she drives I attempt thick eyeliner, having now accepted my flicks will never turn out even, concealer on my dark purple eye bags and swipe a nude gloss on my chapped lips just as we pull into the employee car park behind Violet Café.
Eirlys steps out and smooths her already smooth primrose blouse, dusting off some invisible-to-the-non-perfect-eye flaw from her tight black jeans that cling to her tiny figure and smooths on some rose scented lip balm, flicking her waist length hair out of her face. I'm still absentmindedly in awe of her easy perfection, whilst I pull my sweater over my far too large and humiliatingly lumpy butt, and wish I'd picked less tight leggings in my morning panic. How can some people simply be so flawless, and make it seem like a breeze?
We walk into the cafe and she squeezes my hand quickly, the same way she always has, before disappearing up a narrow flight of stairs. I grab a black apron from a closet, turn the blackboard with the specials around the face the door, switch the sign from Closed to Open and throw myself over the counter the way I'm not supposed to, ready to cheerily greet the first person to walk in the door.
Yep, this is how essentially every morning goes for me.
Except suddenly, everything was about to change.
The bell goes off as the first customer walks in, and I glance up, about to say the arbitrary "hello, how are you, how can I help you today?"
But the words are swept out of my mouth as I catch a glimpse of the most imperfectly perfect girl; tall, with choppy jaw length brown hair under a black hat and the most enchanting hazel eyes.