Alfie's POV
I woke up at about half ten in order to make myself and my flat look presentable for Zoe's visit. I couldn't mess this up. Firstly, I opened the curtains to reveal a slight covering of snow over the pavement. Then I hobbled over to my wardrobe to dig out a decent outfit. I decided on a pair of black jeans and a comfy Christmas jumper, which I paired with my sort of matching sock. I stared down at my freezing toes poking out of my cast. I wish my feelings for Zoe hadn't taken over my mind enough to almost get us both killed.
My mum had left late last night, and she promised to come over as soon as she could. I told her she needn't worry, but she was quite passionate about checking I was okay. So we compromised and she was due to come over tomorrow afternoon.
Luckily, my flat isn't ginormous therefore the bathroom isn't hard to get to. I stumbled over to the mirror to check out my hair, which unsurprisingly looked like a birds nest had fallen in my head. I instantly plunged my finger into the pot of wax beside me and sorted it out.
After I'd breakfasted and edited a video (which I must've forgotten about since I filmed it well over a month ago. But filming a new one required too much time, effort and waking), it was almost ten to. Ten minutes, then she'd walk through the door and my day would instantly be better.
Zoe's POV
Deep purple or a natural pink? My infinite shades of lipstick were lined up before me on my dressing table. I wanted, in fact needed, to look good for Alfie. In the end, I settled for the dark purpley-red wintery shade. My thoughts could not think of names of colours if they were already thinking about Alfie. Once I was satisfied with my face, I moved on to my hair. Milkmaid or fishtail? I hadn't worn a milkmaid braid in a while so I went for that.
I opened my wardrobe and found the outfit I had already decided on. A red velvet dress and black tights, teamed with my black boots. I then put on my coat and looked in the mirror for a final time before heading to the bus stop. This was it, ten minutes then I'd walk through his door. Well that ten minutes would be on a stuffy, claustrophobic bus, but it'd be worth it. Anyway, I wasn't feeling the slightest bit anxious.
