A Princess's Guide to Dragon Domestication

(1) Piercings And Royalty Just Don't Mix

"Wake up, Maisha!" a voice called from somewhere. I didn't reply.

It was the wrong move because before I could fall back into a deep sleep, I was pushed off the bed.

"What the fudge is wrong with you?" I tried to shout while pushing my blanket away from me.

My brother just shrugged in response. "You weren't waking up."

"You didn't have to push me off my bed!" I shouted again, which made my mother shout at me from downstairs to lower my voice.

"It was this or a jug of water, kiddo." He shrugged again before turning around to leave my room. "I'm sure you appreciate this method more."

"Go get deleted." I scowled at his back. He just chuckled before walking out and slamming the door behind him.

I fell back on the floor and lay there for a few minutes, groaning. I hated mornings. I hated that even though I didn't have to go to school, my brother still felt the need to wake me up as soon as he was awake.

And because I had a job to get to.

Whatever; he was still a jerk.

After a few minutes of feeling sorry for myself, I went to my bathroom and quickly got ready. The thought of just staying in my pyjamas crossed my mind, but I honestly didn't think my mother was strong enough for that. I'd already been testing her patience too much over the past six months.

And I did love her too much to give her a life-threatening medical condition.

So I put on my favourite black skinny jeans and a lime green top that said, "I hate you" which was exactly how I felt about anyone who looked at me long enough to read it.

I glanced at myself in the mirror and smiled. The white streaks in my hair were nothing new, but I still liked them as much as the day I had gotten them. A month or two more, then maybe I would be ready to move on to blue hair. Wonder Woman style.

I changed my nose pin to match with my t-shirt before putting on some black eye-liner. Again, my mother didn't like the amount of black around my eyes, but whatever; she wouldn't even recognize me without it.

I definitely didn't.

I put on my black long boots before going down the stairs to the kitchen, where my brother sat stuffing his face with pancakes.

"You're worse than an animal," I told him with an expression that matched my disgusted tone.

"And I ate your share of the pancakes," he smirked, looking like a chipmunk because of his full mouth.

"Ricky!" My mother gave him a look of disapproval before turning towards me. "Sit down, honey. I'll make you more."

"It's her own fault for being late!" Ricky said with his mouth full, which earned him another disapproving look.

"It's okay, mum," I told her. "I'd rather not have breakfast anyways. Just looking at Ricky's lack of manners is making me want to puke out last night's dinner." I shot a smirk at him while he glared back.

"Are you sure?" my mother asked with a frown.

Ricky pulled out his tongue.

"About breakfast, yeah," I said while kissing her on her cheek, "Why someone would take in a monkey like Ricky and call him their son? No."

"Says the adopted one."

"Ricky!" our mother shouted, her face going red with anger. "You apologize to your sister right now, young man, or I'll—"