Protected Abroad [AmazingPhil / Danisnotonfire]

Sixteen: Breakfast

Phillip went straight to the kitchen. With a hand gesture, he offered me a seat at the breakfast bar which I took. He jumped from one place to another, opening this cupboard and that drawer, leaving them open in the process. Various ingredients ended up on the counter as he used them. Four, some eggs, milk, and butter all made their appearance on the counter and was used in the cooking process. Phillip seemed to know what he was doing as he didn't have instructions out. I thought to myself that I was a little jealous of how well the man in front of me could cook.

Some bacon made its way into a pan and so did eggs. I was going to inform Phillip of my lifestyle choice but choose to not disrupt his cooking process. Soon enough, there was a buffet for both me and him, with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Phillip inquired my choice of drink between milk, apple juice, and water. A cup of water sat in front of me while a glass of apple juice was Phillip's choice. He took the seat next to me, and began to fill his plate. I myself took two pancakes stacked on each other and placed a liquid mound of syrup on top. 

"You don't eat eggs or bacon?" He hypothesized.

I shook my head. I didn't. People always looked at me funny when I didn't. My kind wasn't an alien to the human race. We, as a whole, were growing in number. Why wouldn't we? There were so many health benefits it isn't funny. I won't go into detail, but I would like to live until age eighty without having a heart attack from eating one steak a week.

"So you're... A vegetarian?" 

"I am. Is that so weird?"

"It is for me. At least I get more bacon for myself!" He chimed in cheerily. The bacon here was different, more like a piece of ham then the piece of meat that was accepted as bacon in the U.S. As Phillip took the remaining two pieces of bacon, I felt a sore pain. It was one I knew all too well. I panicked. What was I going to do? How was I going to tell Phillip that... You know, girl things. 

"Phillip?" I asked meekly.

"Call me Phil, but what's up?"

"What day of the week is it?"

"It's Tuesday."

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, besides the pulling and sore feeling already there. I had to go get some feminine items. I assumed that whomever packed my bag didn't think of packing any necessities for my time of the month. I  left my place perched on the stool, and once in Phillip's room, dashed to my pack. I unzipped every pouch that was sewn into to suitcase and found nothing. I was right. I usually was. Now it was the fear of asking to go to the store and purchase them. It had to be today or else... I would be beyond embarrassed if I didn't. 

I sat there, in front of my bright red suitcase, the contents in the surrounding area. Phil knocked on the door and stuck his head in. Having the most curious look on his face. He would, after I had rushed from the room for what seemed to be no reason, but what did boys know about girls?

"You alright?" Phillip speculated.

I stayed silent. Neither shaking nor nodding my head. Now or never. I mentally cheered on myself. I felt my throat tighten, not letting air enter my lungs. Everything I felt in this instant. Both stitches I was aware of, assuming that they both needed more attention. My cramps now were very pertinent. My wrist felt better, but still sore like everything else. All my thinking felt like a jumbled mess in my head, all the words swirling around. And they won't come out. 

How am I to live on my own and ask for something by a stranger? It's easy when you're outgoing, but I'm quite the opposite. An introvert, in fact. It's also possible just to stay quiet, but what if you have to? Absolutely? All these thoughts are piling up, waiting to be let out. How am I to let them out when I have the hardest time telling the most important things to people? My eyes glance over to my book. I think about how strong of person Polly Ann is. She is the epitome of what I would like to be. Strong-willed, caring, fiercely passionate about what she loves, has a fiery temper, as well as speaks her mind, even for a girl in the late 1700s. I might not have a temper, but I can try to speak my mind.

After my long pause, Phil cautiously asks again. "Sage?" My name leaving his lips gives me a shiver.

I stand from my spot in front of the suitcase. Inhale, exhale. "I need to go to the store and buy some... Feminine products." A wave of relief washed over me. I breathed easily, and felt one more step closer to becoming someone I want to be. Though my voice was shaky, it still came out more than a whisper.

"Oh, why didn't you just say so? We'll go. Let me take a shower first?"

I nodded. I expected Phillip to leave the room but I forgot this was his room. He rummaged around some drawers and found what clothing he needed, then left. I spent the time picking up my clothing that had been torn from the inside of the case and thrown on the floor in my frenzied state. Once I was done, I wandered back to see about the remains of breakfast. If I could wash dishes or anything else, I would. I found something I didn't expect to laying by the outside of the door. I heard the shower water still running so I thought it was safe to return the loose article of clothing to the steaming room. At first, I didn't want to touch it. I contemplated it for a minute, and decided that it was the only way to return the lost clothing.

It was boxers: a white background with blue and red line drawing stars on them. With a quick hand, I touched the undergarment as little as possible and threw them in the bathroom, then closed the door as fast as I could. After my little obstacle, I stayed somewhat dazed. Where was this confidence coming from? Am I the real me? Where did this come from? This boldness? I was very glad that Daniel was not here to see me blush at the sight of the undergarment. Would it be like this every day living with boys?

I looked around the kitchen and found a mini dish washer, in which I placed the empty plates and few bowls in. I washed the larger pans by hand, and searched around until I found their rightful place. By the time I was done, the water was turned off and a Phillip emerged from the bathroom. His hair was partially wet, but styled the way it has been. Though I missed the sleepy hair look on him. I realised I was still in my pyjamas and my own hair had not been taken care of. Into Phillip's room I went. I informed him that I was changing in his room: which I locked myself in as I changed.

I ran a brush through my hair and it instantly became straight. I wore on my body a long sleeve black shirt with plain jeans. I was surprised when I found a purse I had shoved in my closet a long time ago. I searched through it, finding random items: chap stick, a pack of half gone gum, my library card, and a pen. Deeper down I found a cute wallet, which had three dollars and twenty-three cents. Figuring it wouldn't hurt, I took it along with me. I liked it because it was my style, and cheap at the thrift store I had gotten it from.

I left the haven I now considered to be Phil's room, and found the person in question to be sitting in the living room, waiting for me.

"Ready?" He affirmed.

I nodded, put on my shoes, and followed Phillip out of the place I now call home. I looked at the door again, reading the number 612. Phil continued down the hall and I skipped to rush beside him. Now realising I could become lost in this new city, new world I've been thrust into.