Bun Buns | Gene

[05]: Overthinker

Saturday morning.

You always loved Saturdays. You got to enjoy a leisurely sleep in, and roll around in bed for as long as you see fit.

This morning, like most other Saturdays, you smile to yourself as you roll around in the warm sheets and slowly adjust to the sunlight.

Relaxing.

Nothing to worry about. Nothing to get up for. Normally, you'd be able to smell your mom cooking something. But, not today.

Time?

You roll onto your side and tap the screen on your phone, opening only one eye to look at it.

9:40AM.

Okay, nice. It's still early.

You roll back over and close your eyes again for only about three seconds before reality hit you in the face like a freight train.

"CRAP!"

Your body flew out of bed as if it were exploding. Your feet carried you to the bathroom faster than should be possible, and you threw yourself into the shower.

You didn't have time to wash your hair, since Gene would be knocking at your door in approximately twenty minutes.

You were in-and-out in seconds, and blow drying your hair in the mirror while simultaneously putting moisturiser on your face. You rushed around back and forth like a madman. Picking out clothes, throwing your randoms into the closet to hide them. You fixed your bedsheets, opened your blinds, and slapped on some basic makeup all without taking a single breath.

You stopped in the centre of your semi-clean room to catch some air.

Time?

9:50AM.

Damn. That was impressively fast.

Okay. Now, get dressed.

You had already slipped on some simple denim shorts that you seemed to wear way too often, and some white socks, too. You found yourself an open-back black shirt. It was tight, but flattering in the same way that your shorts were. And, it was black. So, if you were to get paint on it, it wouldn't be the end of the world.

You finally let out a breath as you check yourself in the mirror.

Crap. Totally bad hair day.

You ran to your bathroom, digging through the drawers, until you found a purple hairband. You pulled it over your head and slid it up over your fringe, adjusting it to your liking.

Looking at yourself for a moment, you wonder if it's too much or too little.

But there was not enough time to find anything else, because Gene was sure to be here any-

Ding-Dong.

The doorbell.

Oh, my Irene.

"Y/N! Could you get the door?!" you heard your mom call out from her room.

"It's for me, mom! I'll get it in a second!"

"I didn't know you had someone coming over!"

Crap. You forget to tell her...

"Uh..." you look around nervously, grabbing perfume to spray. "It's my friend Gene. He's here to work on our art project!"

A few seconds of silence made you anxious. Then, your mother opened your door and her head popped around the corner.

"...A boy?"

You sigh in defeat. "Yes, mom... a boy."

Her head tilted with a mixed expression of agitation and pettiness. "Oh, well, in that case. Let me go introduce myself!"