· Suffolk, England ·

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Sophie's POV

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"Shut the fuck up," I groan, pulling a pillow over my head as a group of annoying birds sing on my windowsill. 

Without a damn fail, these birds manage to make my mornings a living hell at eight am every Saturday. I don't know how they do it, but they do. 

I crack an eye open and grab my phone, taking it from the charger plugged into the wall under my bed. The screen lights up and shows a few Instagram notifications along with the time, date and of course, my screen wallpaper. It's a picture from last summer when Wilbur and I were in Spain on holiday at the beach. That was a good holiday. 

The time reads eight-thirty and I place my phone back on my bedside table before plunging face-first into my pastel blue pillows. It's early, but I'm in a good mood nevertheless. Wilbur is coming up from Brighton to stay a couple of days. It's a long weekend, so mum figured it'd be the best time for us to see each other. 

I haven't seen Wilbur in a few weeks. He's been super busy with Twitch and Youtube. Mum and I have been busy with school and work and just haven't been able to set time aside to properly spend time with each other. Today, however, is finally the day Wilbur comes up to Suffolk. 

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After a long shower, brushing my teeth and changing, I join mum downstairs in the kitchen and smile when I see her whipping up a crazy breakfast

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After a long shower, brushing my teeth and changing, I join mum downstairs in the kitchen and smile when I see her whipping up a crazy breakfast. 

"Morning, mum," I smile, pecking her cheek. 

I swoop a chocolate chip from the packet spilling out onto the marble counter and wink at mum as she starts to swat my hand away. 

"Chocolate chip pancakes?" I ask, feeling the semi-sweet chocolate droplet melt over my tastebuds and coat my tongue in a beautifully silky rich consistency. 

"Chocolate chip banana muffins," Mum corrects me, removing the packet of chocolate chips away from my sneaky hands. "I'm making blueberry pancakes this time"

I watch as mum carefully spoons the pancake batter into a buttered skillet. She plops a few blueberries in each with a dash of lemon zest before flipping them over, showing the golden-brown surfaces. 

Do you know that saying? The one that basically goes "the first pancake is always shit?". Yeah? Well, that doesn't exist at Kathy Gold's house. The pancakes are always perfectly round and brown. That's what mum says anyway. 

"Your brother will be here at ten-thirty," Mum says, wiping her messy hands on her apron. "Could you go put these in his room?"

Mum hands me a vase of perfectly clipped roses. The rose petals are a deep scarlet and feel like satin under the touch of my fingertips. they truly are beautiful and mum smiles. 

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