Breathe

1

The lingering aroma of coffee wafted through the quaint room. It tingled my nostrils, sending a delightful shiver up my spine as even its faintest scent warmed my body once rigid from the cold of the night prior. The creaking of the shutters was heard as they swayed to-and-fro at the whim of the delicate breeze, and light chatter was muffled beneath the carpeted floorboards. Even the light of morning's dawn seared through my eyelids as specks of light danced across in the darkness.

My lips curled upward to reveal a small smile, though it was quenched when I gripped my abdomen, only to realize a blanket wasn't there—the source of the chill.

"Mhm . . ."

I grumbled at the murmur. Cautiously cocking an eye open, I shifted my gaze to the small figure next to me. Tufts of maple hair cascaded down the lengths of their shoulders, layering above the ruffled sheets they hoarded for themselves. In a fetus position, a faint grin peeked above the covers with rose-tinted lips, as if they sensed my frustration midst their sleep.

My eyebrows furrowed in agitation. I squeezed my eyes shut again once more, then tugged at the sheets to pull them to my side. Unfortunately for me, it was met with resistance from the figure as their pale fingers gripped the blanket and pulled back. Grunting, I attempted the same maneuver again, only to be met with the same resistance as before. Their smug smile only grew.

"Fine, asshole," I sneered, my nose scrunching in disdain. "Have it your way."

I threw the blanket toward her and released a dissatisfied huff. Swinging my legs over the bedside, I extended my arms into the air, sighing after; the tenseness of my muscles diminishing.

What's up with you today?

The carpet cushioned my bare feet and spread their comforting warmth to them. I rubbed my temples in a vain attempt to clear the throbbing headache plaguing my thoughts, but it was in vain. Instead, I ruffled my hair, hands catching on the tangles that were littered throughout it, and I grimaced when one caught on my finger as I retracted my hand from the mess.

"Great," I mumbled under my breath. "Great way to start the day."

How can you be so calm—so fake.

I snatched a hairbrush off my nightstand, tucking it under my arm as I gently pulled on the drawer's handle and peeped inside. Tracing my index-finger across the variety of patterns embedded into the shirts, I settled on a casual white with sleeves chopped off just below the elbow. The pants were easy—just the same jeans knocked-off by different brands.

A light knock pattered on the door, caution taken to be quiet.

"V-Veronica? Are you there?"