𝒜 𝐻𝒶𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝐸𝓃𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉

2 - 𝒮𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝒜𝓇𝑒 𝑀𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈

When her bare feet touch the chilled hardwood floor, she flinches and jumps onto the fuzzy rug in the room's center, trying to get used to the surface in her mind's still hazy state. She glances back at the bed, and her e/c eyes land on Marshmallow, who is looking at her in obvious distaste. She narrows them.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. It's not like you can't sleep any other time of the day." He blinks and stands, stretching for a moment before turning away from her and lying back down. "Okay fine, be that way. Drama queen..."

With that, she looks at the closet, then down at the floor, knowing what needs to be done and mentally preparing herself for it. C'mon Y/n, it's just a floor. A floor made of ice...but a floor, nonetheless. Quit being a wuss and go.

Inhaling to encourage herself, she steps onto the wood and lets out a squeak, her pace quickening the closer she gets to the closet. "Right about now would be a good time to have slippers," she murmurs to herself, opening the door and stepping inside. She sifts through the different clothes, contemplating what she wants to wear and not having to search for long.

She throws on some shorts and a t-shirt, socks, and a pair of tennis shoes before stepping back out and heading toward the bathroom, hoping that nobody else is occupying it at the moment. To her luck, once she's out of her room, she finds it empty and strolls inside, closing the door behind her and flicking the light switch up.

After flushing the toilet and washing her hands, she does everything in her morning routine before walking out into the hall and heading down the stairs, instantly catching the whiff of a pleasant scent wafting from the kitchen. Farrah takes notice of her granddaughter entering the doorway and sends her a welcoming smile as she takes a pan of biscuits out of the oven.

"Good morning, hun," she chirps, removing her oven mitts and turning to face her. "How did you sleep?" Y/n walks closer and shrugs, remembering the endless, dull scenery and the eerie voice whispering those words to her in her head.

"I mean...I had a pretty unsettling dream but, other than that, I slept fine." Farrah hums and tilts her head. "What about you, Nana?"

"A lot more peaceful now that I know you're here under the same roof," she replies, giving her a brief hug, which Y/n gladly returns. "So, you hungry? I made breakfast!" She glances over at the stovetop and nearly drools when she sees freshly-cooked bacon resting on a plate, scrambled eggs in a skillet, and that same pan of biscuits placed beside them. She can feel her stomach rumble as she stares at it, so she nods over-enthusiastically and goes to retrieve a plate and fork from where they were set on the island in preparation.

"This all looks delicious, Nana," she comments, scooping some eggs onto her plate after gathering several pieces of fried pork. Her eyes meet Farrah's, and she shoots her a grateful expression. "Thanks for making it."

"Oh, it was no trouble at all—just like you, my dear, are no trouble at all." She pats her affectionately on the head before sliding her hand down to cup her cheek, and smiles. "Now go eat your food and enjoy it." Y/n nods, taking a step back and laying the plate full of food on the counter, aiming to get butter and jelly out of the fridge. She also grabs a spoon and butter knife afterward, using them to smear the two substances across the soft inside of her biscuits before grabbing her plate once again and strolling through the living area until she reaches the dining room.

She pulls a chair out from under the table and takes her seat, anxious to get some food in her stomach and start her day. Farrah soon appears with her own platter of breakfast and sits beside her, the two chatting about various things as they eat, and the time flies by like a flock of birds. At around 10:25, Y/n rises from the chair and heads back to the kitchen, feeling properly filled up as she rinses her dishes.