𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎 || 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒

𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 -

Having a pleasant day, not at all. In fact, it was anything but pleasant.

As your eyes fluttered open, you could see the sunlight seeping through your tinted windows. The fire glow of the rising sun lit up your shiny (e/c).

Turning over your (f/c) bed covers, you grabbed your phone, which was resting on night table. You glanced at the time.

11:23 am, it read.

You jumped off your bed with a jolt. ''Holy fuckin' shit-''

You hurriedly scrambled out of your bedroom, panicking. You were supposed to be at work hours ago.

Rapidly, you made and gobbled hungrily your cold cereal.

Guess you were hungry.

You decided to put on a plain shirt and some jeans for the day after rummaging around your tiny bedroom.

You didn't even bother to brush your messy (h/c) hair, altought it didn't look very professional.

You rolled your (e/c) eyes. 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩.

You grabbed your phone and literally sprinted out of your apartement.

Once you felt the cold breeze hit you, you realized you forgot your winter jacket, hat and scarf.

𝘞𝘰𝘸, you thought sarcastically, 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨.

Sighing, you ran across the streets and to your work place, ignoring the stares behind your back.

You hugged yourself to preserve as much warm as possible as you entered the building, practically melting under the welcoming heat.

You glanced at your watch.

11:45 am.

''Fuck,'' you cursed, teeth clenched. You glanced around, seeing people scattering around with papers in hand in state of panick.

And one particular voice was standing out of the others, loudly barking orders.

This could only mean one thing.

You were officially fucked.