stress-baking | theyna

i.

Reyna didn't like how she always ended up in this situation. Tired, angry, and in a dire need of motivation. And sugar; definitely sugar. But alas, she dragged her feet as she walked out of the university library at exactly 2:27 in the morning.

You see, she was never good at deadlines. They weren't real, until they were real. The result of that seemed to always be late-night cramming and bullshitting through essays using Sparknotes. Unfortunately for Reyna, there were no Sparknotes about Greek and Roman conflict or the Argo's connection to both.

After debating for a moment whether she should just sleep behind one of the bookshelves, Reyna valiantly trudged her way to the elevator, blindly pushing a button and hoping for the best. Luckily, she ended up on the ground level, and dug her car keys from the bottomless abyss known as her backpack.

Leaning back in the old leather seats, Reyna took in a deep breath that smelled of old McDonald's and bad choices. She really should not have been driving, not when she was that tired. She twisted the volume knob for the radio, but the loud music did nothing to help her stay awake. It's a miracle she didn't hit anything on the short drive to her dorm.

Without caring about the noise that came from the slamming car door, Reyna hoisted her bag higher onto her back and slowly walked towards the entrance of the building.

More corpse than girl, the brunette opened the double doors and stalked towards the elevator with a sense of tranquility at the silence and quiet of the night.

When the elevator stopped at her floor, Reyna was more keen on just sleeping where she stood. But no, our lovely heroine grit her teeth, pinched her arm and speed-walked down the hallway to her apartment.

Pulling open her eyelids, she found her key and jammed it into the lock. She kicked the door open, walked in, and leaned against it to shut it. Dropping her bag at the front of the door, she walked a few steps forwards to flop down onto the threadbare couch in her living room. The moment she hit the sofa, Reyna was out like a light.

That is, until she was awoken by the sound of loud beeping. Reyna's eyes snapped open and she scrambled to grab her phone from her pocket. She grimaced as the bright lock screen glared at her with the time. It was only 2:54AM. It wasn't the alarm clock, as she originally thought it was. It sounded more like an oven. What sort of nocturnal asshole was using the communal kitchen at this time?

With a roar of anger and exhaustion, she leaped from the couch, opened her door, and set down the hall to give this person a very stern talking-to. By "talking-to", you can assume it was going to be more of a "yelling-at".

Clad in wrinkled clothes and all of her five-foot-two glory, Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano stomped down the hallway and ferociously yanked open the kitchen's door to glare at the person making such a racket.

Accusing finger pointed, she growled, "What in the name of-" But that was as far as Reyna got before someone yelped and threw a handful of flour at her. Her once accusing finger dropped, as did her mood.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" The voice sounded frantic and apologetic. "Hold on, don't open your eyes. I'll get you a towel." Reyna heard the sound of running water and hurried footsteps. She started when a cold rag touched her face, but kept her eyes closed until the person backed out of her space.

Wiping off the excess water from her eyes, Reyna slowly opened one eye and then the next. The first thing her eyes saw were the other's striking electric blue ones. Taking a step back, she allowed herself a moment to adjust her eyes to the light. After the bright white that filled her vision mellowed out, Reyna took a look at the douche who was using the oven at three in the morning. She sucked in a breath as she took in the girl. Regardless of how pretty the other might have been, Reyna was pissed.