Weeha, a Wendy and Harry story.

Date over Coffee... or should I say TEA?

Wendy POV

I woke up to a noise that I like to call 'Useful, yes, but I hate it'

Covered in sweat from last night's events, I slam my hand on the alarm buzzing on my apple phone, and get up.

I do a few stretches, yawn a couple of times, go back to bed for just one second. Though I end up taking twenty extra minutes.

The cold air of the bathroom hits me as soon as I step (more like crawl) in. I turn the shower tap, strip, and wait for it to become pleasant enough to bathe in. There are lots of benefits of taking cold showers, though: you feel more fresh, skin is better looking, wakes you up, etc, etc. But one benefit of taking a warm shower tops them all.

They feel better.

I sigh into the tepid water as it hits my back, making my senses vigilant and awake.

Yeah, I don't want to get out. I think.

It's funny because I never wanted to get in, in the first place, either.

I dry myself with a towel while my body scolds me for getting out of the heat, and I get my outfit out.

I didn't choose anything special. I had a lot of time to think last night. Maybe Harry didn't know he technically asked me out on a date when he asked to get coffee with me. Or maybe it's the fact that we're going to a coffee place, I didn't dress up extra.

In any case, I'd been lately watching a lot of those '10 signs you suck as a friend' or 'How you can tell if someone hates you' videos.

Is it just me, or is this an actual insecurity problem?

I had come across one saying 'Things your partner could do on a date'. I remember only a limited amount of content, since it was practically three in the morning when I watched it.

Hints like; If they're polite and do stuff like paying for you or getting you flowers you particularly love was displayed. And not to mention, I can read people really well. So if something seems off, or if Harry looks a bit more nervous or excited then usual, I'll have to call it.

I looked in the mirror wearing a pair of pale blue jeans, that were slightly grazed at the knees, a white blouse lining the waist of it. I had a black cardigan on top of it and also had my handy (but expensive!) vintage leather backpack with all of a woman's necessities piled in.

I lightly jog down the stairs after I'm done. With my vintage bag slung over one shoulder, and phone in hand, I received a text message from The God, himself.

Helo

...

I blink. Did he miss out an 'L' on accident or is that just his way of greeting... Confused and distracted, I crashed into the kitchen counter, where there just happened to be a can of Red Bull sitting right where my elbow was pressed up against.

From then, everything happened in slow-mow.

The can leaped 10 feet up into the air, a hissing noise (Minecraft conundrum, much??) releasing Red Bull into the air, flicking off of the can and (thanks gravity.) landed right back on...

Me

Great. Just frickin fantastic.

See why I'm not a morning person, and will never be one.

I groaned so loudly, I don't even think our neighborly cat could top it off.

I'm soaked and smell like the drink. What am I going to do?

Just then, I get a message from the dude that started this mess.

I'm waiting for you outside.