No Heroes, No Villains

Chapter 7

Warmth. That's the most blissful thing when added to a deep sleep, a comfortable warmth that engulfs your whole body. The warmth of sunlight folding over a body like a soft blanket, wrapping itself tightly like a coiled snake around its prey. Everything in this moment is perfect, being sucked into the void that is sleep has never been more welcomed. At this moment, nothing has been more comfortable or serene.

"Charlie, hey Charlie you need to get up."

The voice was soft, with just enough edge to grab my attention. Groaning in response, the mound of blankets I'm piled under shifts slightly. As if one cue, "Wham!" fills the room and a chuckle mixes in the with music. Stirring ever so slightly, the volume continues to crescendo until the chorus. The laughter has been drowned out by the alarm, and this is my cue to officially wake up. Fighting with the blankets like a man stuck in quicksand, my head finally emerges to see Foggy standing at my closet. Slapping around carelessly, my palm hits the speaker loudly to mute the alarm. The messy noise catches Foggy's attention and his eyes crinkle with the softest of smiles. Bags sat sweetly beneath his hazel green eyes, the look of exhaustion being hidden with a smile. Foggy's hair was tousled messily, and his clothes were wrinkled at the corners.

"Hey Fog." The words were just barely audible, just barely able to find its way from my throat. He runs a shaky hand roughly through his hair, sending a look as response. My knees reach my chest and instinctively my arms wrap around them protectively. Foggy shuffles over to the edge of the mattress and sits gently. He rests his hand on my arm lightly, his thumb tracing small circles to comfort the almost break down. We sit in silence for a few moments, our breaths falling in sync with one another. The generic cell phone ringtone fills our silence, and Foggy looks at the table. The phone illuminates with a message, before he picks up the device.

"Are you supposed to be meeting Matt for breakfast this morning Char?"

With the end of that question, I am already out of bed and rushing towards the bathroom. Fuck. Of course I would forget about breakfast with Matt. Double fuck, my eyes are all puffy from crying. Triple fuck, I really don't have time to shower. Grabbing dry shampoo from the counter, I start to attack my hair while calling out to Foggy.

"Fog, can you ask him what time to meet at? Fuck, what time is it now?"

"Yeah sure, and it's seven-thirty." He calls in response, laughing loudly at the panic in my voice.

Cursing again underneath my breath, I continue the onslaught to make my self look somewhat presentable. Foggy yells that Matt wanted to meet at eight-thirty, making a small sigh of relief escape from a smile. Breathing deeply, I continue to try and make myself look decent as my alarm blares once again. Humming along quietly, Foggy peaks his scruffy head into the bathroom a smile gleaming from ear to ear.

"I can't believe you have this as an alarm Charlie."

"Listen here Fogger, our seventh grade talent show was the shit because of this song and you know it."

After another twenty minutes of trying to make myself presentable, I saunter from the bathroom to see a casual outfit laid out for me. A cream colored fitted sweater with a pair of black jeans sit neatly on the edge of the bed, a comfortable pair of NIKE's to follow suit. Shuffling to the dresser for the undergarments, I quickly switch out pajama's for grown up clothing. Dark brown, almost black loose curls pool to the middle of my back, creating a stunning contrast against the color of the sweater. Checking myself in the mirror once more, I nod absentmindedly before leaving the room. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee makes a smile appear and my pace quickens to the kitchen. Foggy sits at the breakfast nook, mug in one hand and a newspaper in the other. Leaning against the counter, I clear my throat slightly and arch a brow.