Gaze - [h.s.]

❖ Chapter 5 ❖

The jolting beeping noise sounding from my alarm clock wakes me, signaling that I have work today. The party is tonight as well, and I'm hoping to down a whole bunch of coffee to keep me energized. I could always take a nap in the time between the end of my working hours and the party, too.

I work at a small bookstore downtown, which I am in love with. I have to admit, I extend in the category of bookworms. I try to read at least two or three books a week, depending on my available free time. The owners pay well, and I am really good friends with all of my co-workers.

I slip out of bed and stretch, immediately feeling the cold air on my lower stomach from my shirt lifting when I extend my arms upward. After stretching, I stay sat on my bed for a while and stare at the sunlight coming in through my window. I remember always wanting a room that had its windows facing the sunrise, and craving the way the sun would look beaming through the cracks of my blinds onto my floor or bed.

When we moved here, this room was the first bedroom I saw, and I immediately fell in love with how the sun was shining through the windows during the late sunrise. I'm still in love with it to this day, and when I get my own house, if windows facing the sun aren't included, I will make it happen. It's not my fault that I'm obsessed with windows on houses.

I stand up, and the cold floor immediately makes my feet tingle. I grab my robe that was sitting on the back of a chair next to my bed and slip it on. As I start walking to the door to the hallway, I hear Brandon cheer downstairs. I roll my eyes and laugh lightly as I open the door and make my way downstairs to the kitchen. I smell bacon.

Bacon and pancakes. Bacon and pancakes!

Brandon is standing in front of the stove, flipping a piece of bacon over with a fork. When I quickly move behind him to scare him, he disappears and when I look over, he's standing by the table, fork in hand.

"Ha, ha!" He teases, and I stand in place, defeated.

"No fair!" I stomp and fold my arms across my chest, faking a tantrum. Suddenly, the bacon pops and I feel an extreme sting on my hand. I yelp in response, cursing the bacon out while Brandon watches, clearly amused by my talking to inanimate objects.

"You shouldn't use your power against me! That's so not fair, dude!" I exclaim and act hurt. Just then, Mom walks into the kitchen, almost identical to me with her hair in a bun and a robe covering her body.

"What are you two fighting about now?" She asks as she rubs the sleep from her eyes and rakes her hand up her forehead to push back the hair that's fallen from her bun, just like I'm doing.

"Brandon used his power against me and I got my hand burned from the damned bacon!" I start. "It's Brandon's fault!"

I see a hint of a smile on Brandon's lips, and I can't help but do the same. Mom simply looks down and shakes her head while laughing slightly as she opens the fridge to take out the creamer for her coffee. She mumbles something about how amusing it is to see me and Brandon bicker, while he teleports back in front of the stove to toss the remaining bacon onto the tall pile on the plate.

I grab the scrambled eggs out of the microwave and whisk them to the table. I had figured that that is where they would be, since Brandon always puts the bowl of eggs in the microwave after he cooks them to keep them warm.

We all sit at the table and eat while we talk about our plans for the day, occasionally laughing over one of Brandon's jokes. I finish my food quickly and run upstairs to get ready for work. I gather my uniform, a couple of towels, and make my way to my bathroom. I shower quickly, wondering the whole time how I'm going to handle work and the party in one day.

When I get home, I'll probably nap for a while, and then call Kira over to help me get ready. She knows more about hair and makeup than I do, and I love when she does my makeup. It always looks better than when I ever try.

When I'm out of the shower and towel drying my hair, I apply some mascara and foundation. I've been way too stressed lately, and it caused a breakout on my face. Lovely.

As I take my hair out of the towel to let the rest air dry, I rush around my room to find every thing I need for the day and put it into my purse. I'm out the door and in my car with ten minutes to spare. I always go to work early, just in case. I get anxious if I'm there right on time or even a few seconds late. I'm insane like that.

I arrive at the bookstore and decide to go next door for coffee, as I always do. I wonder if HARRY S. is working today. I keep finding myself thinking about him during the most random times, out of nowhere. I don't even know this guy, only that he's attractive. I don't even understand how it happens, but he just pops up in my mind when I'm completely focused on something else.

The bell on the door dings as I walk through it, and I stuff my hands in my pockets of my jeans as I walk toward the short line to the cashier. My eyes immediately search for the mop of curls, only to come to a sudden realization. It's him.

The figure I saw in my night terror. The hair, his smirk, his glowing red eyes and his demonic voice. That's why I can't stop thinking about him. Because it's him. Before I know it, it's my turn to order my coffee and I get a few scoffs from behind me. I must've been there a while.

Shakily, I take the two steps to the counter just as he leans against it on his palms. This time is different than before. This time he's actually looking at me. Straight in my eyes, and into my soul. The intense glare I'm receiving from him makes me completely frozen in place and I can't think straight. My thoughts are suddenly clouded with uncontrollable, deranged, dark thoughts.

My eyesight brims with red as I start to have flashes of a dark, frantic place. I get flashes of fire covering every square inch, my hearing becomes tons of people screaming in pain, and then I get a flash of a dark shadow removing all of the air and purity from my body as he continues to stare at me. His voice snaps me out of my trance.

"What can I get you?"