Can't Keep My Eyes Off You

Coffee and Contemplation // Still Mute I See

You heard the stomping before your alarm even had the chance to go off, the dull thuds and knocking around of cabinets from the first floor leaving your morning soured far before any teenager could have cared to be awake.

Four months of living in the basement, and your dad still hadn't picked up on your multiple complaints or exhausted glares from across the breakfast table and realized that he wasn't exactly walking on eggshells when he tumbled down the stairs and made his way to the kitchen every morning.

You groaned, rolling across the mattress and catching yourself in the heap of blankets your newly appointed step mother had bestowed upon you the second you were given the key to the coldest depths of the Cartman household. You snuggled against thin quilts and fluffy cotton stuffed comforters, finding that even though you had been rudely awakened before the butt crack of dawn, that your exhaustion from the day before still waned on you and made for a easy lapse of indifference as you tried to shut out the noise from upstairs.

After all, if your dad was keeping to his normally strict schedule, then he had started rummaging through the kitchen fridge at around five forty-five, meaning you had a good twenty minutes before your actual alarm would sound and you would be forced to actually start your morning routine.

You laid still, drowning out the stomping and odd noises of the house settling, drifting peacefully between that thin veil of being awake and resting, enjoying the peace until a slam jolted you from your stupor and you jerked your head to the top of the stairs that lead to your 'bedroom' door.

The basement lights flipped on, blinding you momentarily as you shrank away from the sudden invasion of privacy, twisting in your sheets and blankets to get a better look at the intruder and rolling your strained eyes once you found the ever so plump and bratty figure of your step brother.

"Get the fuck up- Mom's making breakfast and she wants it to be a family ordeal ." Came his venomous tone, one you had grown far too used to years before your parents joined in holy matrimony, which made it that much easier to toss your head back to the warmth of your pillow and dismissively flip the heavy set boy off.

"Fuck you. My alarm hasn't even gone off yet."

Eric scoffed, dropping down the rickety steps of the basement and shuffling to your bedside, still in a matching pajama set and still somehow succeeding in giving off a vaguely menacing aura.

"You think I wanna be up before the sun rises? Get fucking real, step-freak." He perched a barefoot on the iron frame of your bed, giving it a shake or two. "Get your ass up. I'm not gonna ask again."

You ignored the quaking of your mattress, grabbing a pillow from where it was tucked under the blankets and chucking it in his general direction, shutting your eyes when you heard a gruff ' Oof ' knowing you had hit your mark and hiding a smirk, thinking back to the old days when your incredible aim had helped you volt pebbles and plastic shuriken Eric's way instead of simple pillows.

"I said-" Eric smacked your pillow back down on your own head, tossing it down a few more times for extra measure and succeeding in gathering your attention, your arms flailing around in attempt to battle off the mostly harmless attack, your curses and threats muffled by his barrage of cotton packed strikes to your sleep numbed head. "Get UP!"

"Fuck- You- Cartman!" You yelped between blows, clawing for charge of the pillow, finally snatching it back and rolling away from him with a drawn out groan as he hovered by the edge of the bed. "I'll be there in like twenty fucking minutes, Christ!"

"Make it ten, Step-Freak." Eric sneered, kicking the frame once more and letting out a soft curse when he did so, limping away before stomping back up the steps with uneven strides. "And I call dibs on the bathroom first!"