VII

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Morrigan Brooks

I think I woke up on the wrong side of everything this morning. I didn't sleep through my alarm, I woke up an hour before it and couldn't get back to sleep. Our coffee machine spontaneously combusted, so no coffee. Fuck breakfast, you know, since all we had was a single can of sprite. No bread, no butter, no blood, nothing.

I hike back up the stairs, in the hopes that I could turn the day around with an outfit. At first, it was looking up. I brought out a baby blue mini dress. It had a plunging neckline and was runched in all the right places, and I was thinking of the perfect heels that would go with the dress that would really make the outfit, but I couldn't find the left boot. No matter how hard I looked, I could not find the left fucking boot, so I opted for a similar different pair. 

Don't get me wrong, the heels I went with were scarily similar to the ones I had in mind, but it was annoying

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Don't get me wrong, the heels I went with were scarily similar to the ones I had in mind, but it was annoying.

To make matters worse, I couldn't do winged eyeliner. It might have had something to do with the fact that I was nitpicking everything, but goddamn, give me a bloody break.

I compromised with vaguely natural makeup, before flopping back down on my bed, turning the newly installed TV on and watching How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days for the hundredth time.

"Morrigan!" I hear Eliza shout when I was on Suddenly 30 (I had watched Mr and Mrs Smith before this) and I groan, making the rational decision that I should probably start getting out of the house before 4 pm.

I walk back down the stairs, grunting an indistinct hello to Eliza, making her do a double take.

"What's up your ass this morning?" She asks.

"Let's just say the universe has something against me today," I say, grabbing the keys. "You coming? I'm getting coffee."

"Yes, considering you broke the machine." I gasp, a shocked look on my face.

"I did not break the machine," I say, offended.

"So it just marched off the counter and killed itself?" I nod. "And you screaming 'stupid fucking machine' like five hours ago followed by glass breaking is unrelated."

"Crazy times we live in," I say absentmindedly. "So are you coming or not?"

"Give me five minutes." She says, already running up the stairs. 

"You've got one," I shout after her. I go to sit in the car, and I see Brandon had texted me.

From Sexy Bartender: Hey 

Hey? Really?

To Sexy Bartender: Hey
To Sexy Bartender: how r u?

From Sexy Bartender: not bad wby

To Sexy Bartender: Pretty good

Bloody hell, I did not have the energy to carry this conversation.

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒚 | Elijah Mikaelson [1]Where stories live. Discover now