Lifeline ⤞ Peter Pevensie [Chronicles of Narnia]

i

"Fallon, get down here! We don't have all day!"

The brown haired girl groaned, turning in her bed for the third time that morning, her eyes landing on the light shining off the clock on the wall, which read seven thirty.

Shutting her amber eyes once more, Fallon heard steps walking up the stairs that lead to her room. Not bothering to realize Ms. Macready had entered, she let out a yelp of surprise as the blankets were thrown off her, the cold, winter morning air biting into her skin.

"Get up, Fallon! I have to go pick up the guests, and you need to get the house ready! Go on, now, chop chop!"

Everything had happened so quickly that it took a moment for Fallon to remember how to move.

Guests? What guests?

"God, she can be so frustrating," Fallon heard the Macready say to herself as she exited the room.

"I heard that!" Fallon groaned.

Attempting to get the sleepiness out of her eyes, Fallon rubbed her entire face before moving her hands upwards, feeling her hair sticking up in all directions. The girl let out a yawn, moving her hand to her chest and feeling the familiar coolness of her locket. The brunette didn't really know where it came from, just that she'd had it with her when Professor Kirke had taken her in.

Shaking her head, the girl chose to no longer think of her past. Her swirling thoughts never turned out to be anything good. Instead, she slipped on a pair of black trousers –knowing she would be scolded by the Macready when the woman saw she wasn't wearing a skirt– a white singlet covered by a white shirt that had a cut that went from her collar bones to her chest, a lace keeping everything together, and her black, worn combat boots.

Overall, she had simply chosen to wear a nicer shirt rather than her usual ones.

If she wanted to survive the Macready, she might as well but the slightest bit of effort into her looks.

Her stomach rumbled, breaking Fallon's staring contest with her reflection, reminding her that she still hadn't eaten anything.

Turning on her heal, the brunette walked out of her bedroom, grabbing onto the stair railing with one hand before sitting on it, sliding easily downwards, the sight of the floor spinning continuously making her slightly dizzy as her shoes hit the floor with a thump.

Taking a moment to focus on one point, Fallon headed straight for the kitchen, taking a second to look around before opening one of the cupboards and taking out the bread and shoving in it the toaster before getting ready to make her usual morning coffee. As she was about to go look for everything, though, she noticed a brown mug sitting on the counter, a note next to it. Still being extremely tired, it took her a moment to focus the messy writing.

I've already made coffee, dear.
I'm in the office if you need anything.
Also, there's a group of children coming
from the city today. Please be nice, dear one.
-P.K.

Fallon didn't try to bit back a small laugh at the Professor's note. He wrote everything down, as if he were beginning to write a novel, every time he would leave her a note or letter.

If it were the girl, the note would probably say,

Coffee made.
In office.
Civilized people coming.
Don't mess it up.

That it, if it were addressed to herself.

She put the note down and picked up the mug filled with the still-hot brown liquid, taking a small sip. Her eyes widened and she immediately placed the mug down, rushing over to the sink and opening the tap.