Define Happiness-Snippets

One Morning

-----Cameron POV

*Alarm noises*

Fuck.

The alarm reads 6:00am.
I sit up carefully, as to not wake up my little bed mate. However, I find that my bed's emptier than it should be. I feel movement from across the bed and I look up to see Spencer propped up on his elbows looking towards me. My eyes meet Spencer's and he looks just as confused as I.

Where in the world did Rylie go? He's never up this early. Bathroom?

I get up to check, but there's no one there. I decide he's probably run off to his room because we were smothering him and resign myself to the chore of getting ready for the day. After a pleasantly cold shower and a look of disgust from Spencer at my temperature preferences, I spend about 20 minutes deciding which suit to wear today. I eventually settle on a navy blue coat and pants, a pale blue dress shirt and a white tie, paired with matching white dress shoes.
The suit is close fitting and, as always, the collar is uncomfortable around my neck.

By the time I was done, Spencer had already brushed his short hair and thrown on his usual plain white shirt. Despite how boring it was, the white was a nice contrast to his raven hair. I head to the bathroom, the large over sink mirror is covered in a thick mist, save for one rubbed off spot about 6 inches too high for it to be of any use to me.

"Damn it Spence, why are you so tall?" I mutter aggressively.

I'm tall, but Spencer is on another level. Anyone over 6' is inhuman, I'm just stating the facts. Which means that anyone taller than me is a threat. Usually. Spencer's the exception, he wouldn't hurt a fly if he could avoid it. Usually.

Grabbing a rag, I wipe off the remaining fog. Looking at myself in the morning is always a challenge, having to see what I've become.

I look at the mirror and see my dark brown hair, still damp and particularly curly from the water. It's a little longer now than it was as a child, but as a child I hated my hair being longer than a couple inches. I see my tan skin, a big difference from my original white tone, but changes had to be made to better hide my identity.
Of all these things though, it's my eyes that unnerve me the most. Looking into those dark eyes, and having them stare right through me, it makes me feel unreal. It's as if my body is paralyzed or numb, like past me is the one looking into the reflection. The eyes that look back are those of a predator, a beast the lives it's life waiting for the next thrill. Not the soft brown eyes, filled with gentle curiosity, that they once were. Those eyes didn't last long. The darkness set in fast and has taken up permanent residence in the eyes reflected now. If I had seen those eyes as a child I might've run away, hid under my bed, until the demon found and consumed me. Or maybe I'd have held my ground, put on the face that would scare off the monster, but it wouldn't flee, it would eat me still. Because a monster knows when another monster is lying in wait. That darkness would swallow me whole whether I tried to escape or fight it. That darkness that's collected in my eyes and changed the way I see the world, the way I see other people. That darkness that identifies who's another predator or who's just my potential-

A knock on the door breaks me free of my self inflicted trance.

"Are you coming or not?" Spencer's deep voice filters through the sleek mangrove door.

Naturally I respond in the most mature manner "that depends, are you swallowing?" A smirk subconsciously forming on my face.

I hear a sigh on the other side of the door and feel accomplished. Spencer is always such an easy target, his mind just doesn't process the potential double meanings.

I quickly finish brushing my hair and teeth. Removing my glasses, I replace them with contacts. I've never liked contacts but I also dislike my appearance without them. Glasses are also just not good for my line of work, well one of them.