Adam Montoya
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7:00 AM
Sunlight drifts into the dark room through half drawn shades,golden tones playing across the floor. A slight breeze whistles through the cracks in the apartment walls,and through the window that's cracked an inch open. A male with closely cut brown-blonde hair and brown eyes lays in his bed,tangled up in the sheets as he slumbers peacefully. A striped,almost tortieshell pelted cat is curled up on his hip,sleeping like its owner,chest rising and falling evenly. They're almost picture perfect,if it weren't for the nightmare that sent both cat and human into unmistakable shudders.
You wake up to your alarm clock ringing deafeningly loud to your sleep evoked,sensitive hearing. Opening your eyes doesn't help in the slightest,and the sudden sunlight makes your eyes water and sting,making you blink multiple times. Your alarm clock,however,remains unphased,and continues its obnoxious beeping,persistently screaming,WAKE UP. Swearing,you roll out of bed,and hit the floor,followed by your cat landing with a flop on your face. The startled feline yowls and races across the hardwood floor,skidding slightly before jumping to hide in your closet. WAKE UP! Mumbling another profanity at the damned thing,you drowsily slam your hand down on the off button,and the racous sound cut out immediately. Yawning,you stand up,and instinctively reach for your shirt,which was lying on the ground next to the bed. Pulling it on,you shuffle out of your room and into the hall.
You take a quick look at the mirror in the hallway,to check yourself slightly. Yep. The same old,tired,brown eyes. The bags under your eyes were getting worse,you noted,groaning,The nightmares are getting worse. I should talk to Chilled and see if he's heard anything about Smarty. Exhaustion suddenly sweeps over you,making your knees tremble,so you place your hands on either side of the mirror hanging on the wall,to stable yourself. Taking a few deep breaths,you calm ourself,and shove the immature exhaustion away. You frown at your reflection,and your breath hitches as you see something that had to--just had to--be a trick of the light. Your eyes had seemed to warp black,and the frown twisted up into a horrible smirk,the bags under your eyes had turned to pitch black rings,and you could've sworn you'd seen a black haze behind you.
Shaking your head,you push away from the wall,and hastily walk forward and approach the non-heated part of the apartment. The heater's warmth only reached so far,and the hallway obviously was past so far. The chilly air hits your calves,your thin boxers providing little protection from the chilly February air. You briefly peek your head into your boyfriend,Max's,room,and to your astonishmenmt,the Mexican is still asleep. He hadn't stirred one bit from the whole ruckus you had made. Chuckling a bit,you consider your options.
You could wake him up,or perhaps you could simply wait,and maybe make the two of you breakfast this morning.
