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(Y/N) sat up on the bed after waking up. Her hair was messy and tangled. If she remembers correctly; she remembers that she scripted exactly the opposite of this.
Didn't she?
"I thought my hair wouldn't get messy." she said under her breath.
A groan left her lips as she crawled out of the bed. Crashing onto the ground, she struggled to pick herself up. The floor of her room was cold and definitely not clean.
She focused her gaze on her hand while she laid on the ground. "If only I could teleport a comb in my hand." (Y/N) said out loud.
(Y/N) exhaled deeply and pulled herself together, getting herself off the ground. Stumbling a bit - she held onto the bedside table for support and conveniently found a comb on top of it.
She swiftly snatched it. Holding the comb in her right hand, she used her left hand to grab her hair.
Proceeding to start combing the bottom of her hair before getting to the top until her hair wasn't messy anymore, she let out a satisfied sigh.
Unfortunately, it seems she wouldn't get to catch a break here. "Child," a voice called out with a yell, knocking on her door agressively.
"Yes-" she paused. "G...Granny?" she stammered, unsure if this was the old lady she sort of was familiar with.
"How many times have you forgotten to come back with food? I thought you'd be out picking fruit yesterday, not picking flowers." the old lady said.
"If you don't come back with anything to help us make food today, you aren't getting a single meal." she threatened before turning to the door to leave.
(Y/N) watched as the old lady stepped outside the room and quickly spoke up. "I'll come back with fruit today, I promise." she said, making a promise to the old lady who then left the room without another word.
(Y/N) ran around the small room to look for anything she could use to put all kinds of fruits in and found her basket. "This will do," she says to herself.
Running out of the room, she decides to stop at the garden she goes to every time it's nearing sundown. Right now, it was the afternoon. Around 2pm.
Skipping through the garden, she makes her way to the middle part of this place. She stopped in her tracks once she saw a familiar man with pink hair just standing there.
Watching his back or his hair flow with the cool breeze, her lips parted in surprise. She wasn't sure if she was frozen because she was admiring him or if it was because she was afraid to approach him.
He stood there infront of her.
(Y/N) found him much more mesmerizing than any flower in this enormous garden. Her eyes darted around his figure, admiring his physique, his hair, how tall he was, and the vibe he gave of.
