𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘌𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 ☆ 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

☾ 𝙘𝙝. 𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙮 𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 ☾

❃゜・。。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。。・゜❃

ma•ture (verb):

(of an organism) become physically mature.

❃゜・。。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。。・゜❃

I don't like how my birthday was so close to Norman's.

Not that I was complaining that I had to get him anything, or because I was some sort of attention whore.

But it's because I had no idea what to get him until last night.

I sat up when waking up today, it was early, and I had things to do.

I had made sure Norman was still asleep, I quickly got my gym routine out of the way, showered, and did my homework before making breakfast for Norman.

It was going to take a while because I wanted it to be the best it could be for him.

Earlier this month, he mentioned how he hadn't had cinnamon rolls in years when we were passing by a café. I was shit out of money so I didn't offer him then.

Besides, I can make infinitely better cinnamon rolls than a small, family owned café.

The whole recipe was going to take over 2 hours, but it was going to be well worth it.

I somehow managed to not make much noise, even as I was talking with my friends, AirPods in and on low volume so I could watch my own.

"You're sure doing a lot for this guy. Are you gonna bring this over to his house?"

"Mhm," I say, getting a bit distracted. I was making the frosting now, one of the last steps as the cinnamon rolls bake. "I don't wanna wake up my parents though."

In reality, neither of my parents were home. They went to work a bit earlier than usual to come home earlier.

I tried to be as quiet as I could with the electric mixer, but that was a fool's wish since the machine was loud as hell no matter what you were making.

I huff and quickly mix in everything for the frosting, making sure to be quick as possible so I don't wake up Norman.

I got it over with quickly, then waited for the cinnamon buns to be finished. I ended my conversation with my friends and got the sweet smelling treat out of the oven when it was finished, then glazed them.

I smiled proudly, looking at my beautiful masterpieces.

Damn, I deserve to be on MasterChef... actually, maybe IronChef. Or some shit like that.

I quickly rip my gaze from the pastries and make scrambled eggs for Norman, the kind of breakfast food that goes with these nice treats.

By some amazing timing, Norman comes down the stairs after I finished fixing his food in an aesthetic way on a plate.

He looks at me while rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Good morning, buttercup." he smiles at me, not registering the fact that I had food ready for him yet.

He focuses his eyes and fully wakes up, touching over his hair before now looking at his plate of food.

"Cinnamon rolls? He asked, looking up at me.

I felt a bit nervous at his confusion, so my reply came out with a bit of a stutter.

"Happy Purge Day!- I mean, fuck-" I palm my forehead a few quick times.