Yesterday - Bucciarati Fanfiction

Chapter 5 - On edge

The sun was illuminating the room brightly, I was laying in the couch lazily with the blanket draped over my thighs. I felt warm, very warm- no wonder: I had slept with my sweatpants, something that has not happened in many years. A sweet smell reached my nose, and yet I did not open my eyes. I knew I was dreaming because I could not cook, the only smell I could convey was burnt food. Moving in a more comfortable position, my right arm was under my pillow and the other was dangling from the couch. A strong smell of cologne engulfing my nostrils made me crack open one eye, glancing at the white form in front of me.

"Breakfast is almost ready, perhaps you should get up?" no one is that nice, proof number two that I'm in way too deep in the realm of dreams. The sad part was that I dreamt of kindness, that hit close to home. Something inside told me that I knew that voice, but I could not put a face to it, the blinding ray of sunshine hindered my sight of the baritone voiced person. "I love your voice, it's nice." I mumbled in my pillow before everything turned black again.

Stretching myself awake, I looked at the clock half-awake. "Fuck it's already 11am" getting out of the couch in a hurry, tripping over the blanket in my rush, I dashed to my bedroom to get dressed in something more proper than pajamas. I always liked dressing in something that made me feel powerful and confident, it gave me the push I needed to feel that way. Taking black suit pants from my wardrobe along with a white long-sleeved shirt, I went to the bathroom to freshen up.

"Sheesh- that's a fucking mess" I exclaimed as I started brushing my hair, wincing at the eventual pain that came when encountering knots in my hair. Afterwards I brushed my teeth, before washing my face rigorously, then patting it dry. I did not waste time as I got dressed in my usual attire, zipping up my pants as I tucked in the white shirt. "Now that's how we like it." I said to myself with a charming smile, finger gunning my reflection in the mirror.

Once I left the bathroom I started thinking of what I had to do for the day, "I should probably go grocery shopping-" I stopped dead in my tracks once I was met with a man in my kitchen- oh shit right right, I had forgotten he was there for a moment. He was staring at me with a knowing smile, his hands busy drying the pan he had just washed. "Why are you looking at me like that...?" I asked uneasy as I sat down on the rattan stool of my kitchen, which I should definitely consider changing considering how uncomfortable they were.

"You finally woke up, good dream?" he asked with a smirk. The problem was, I could hardly remember my dreams, the only ones that really left a mark were nightmares. Given that nothing came to mind when I thought of my night meant that I slept pretty well, and dreamt pretty well also. I nodded hesitantly in response, squinting my eyes lightly at him for asking me that. Then a flash of something bright appeared in my mind, I remembered that, strangely, I was sleeping in the couch and coincidentally someone was also cooking and- "I had the weirdest dream..." I started before recalling what I had said to the form, which after having given it a thought might have been Bruno.

"Oh, you have? Does it mention someone with a nice voice?" at this point he was plainly teasing me. He had set down two breakfast plates on the counter, before sitting himself down in front of me, leaning his head against his hand with a playful smile. Taken aback by how forward that was, I stared at him a moment with wide eyes. "That's- I- don't act so cocky, I'm pretty sure you've been told that many times." I said in a fake outrage, trying to cover up the fact that I'd rather he'd not known how much his voice had an effect on me.

Now let's be real, it could have gone worse. I could have said something worse during this semi-conscious state. Fortunately, I simply complimented the man, which he kind of deserved. Yeah, we're good, it's nothing bad, I reassured myself. "I have never been told such a thing, but I'll be sure to remember that." He added with a wink before handing me a napkin and the cutlery. A pink hue covered my cheeks as I took it from his hands, do people ever listen to him talk? Do they even realize how much-? I should stop myself there, I am definitely biased.