Breathless

Snowfall

I had trouble waking up the next morning as the chill of the coming winter crept through the windows and chilled me down to my bones. I pulled my blankets up to my chin and groaned, opening one eye just a slit to stare at the clock. It was only 8:30, so I still had a few hours to get ready for work. I wondered why I had woken up so early, as I usually get up closer to 11:30. I cursed myself for overthinking, knowing that now my mind was up and running, I would never be able to go back to sleep. I flipped over, reaching out to grab my phone from the charger. I turned it on, staring at the screen as it started up. I squinted my eyes as they adjusted to the sudden brightness of my home screen. I took a minute to admire the photo that served as my home screen. It was a photo of me and Brian, with Joe, Sal, and Murr peeking in at the edges of the picture. Where was this taken at? The memory seemed to slip just out of reach, drowsiness pushing it further from my grasp. I hoped that as I woke up I would remember, because even though my memory wasn't always perfect, I knew I'd remember something like that.

I got up around 9:00, shuffling through the house, cursing up and down at the chilly weather. I had always hated the cold, so who knows why I live in New York. I wasn't born here, though. I was born and raised in Pennsylvania, right on the lake, where we had six months of snow, four months of rain, and two months of sun. You would think I would be used to the snow, growing up in it, right? Wrong. It just makes me hate it even more. My bones creaked like I had lived for thousands of years as I walked up the stairs to the bathroom, desperately craving a hot shower.

Once I finished cleaning off, I walked out of the shower and toweled off. I was still tired, but at least I could properly function. I wiped off some of the steam that was on the mirror and stared at my reflection for a moment. I noticed the small line of love bites running from just underneath my jaw all the way down to right above my rose tattoo on my breast. I groaned, wondering how I was going to explain that to my coworkers and clients. I figured I could always wear a scarf, and for once, I was grateful for the cooling weather.

It didn't take long for me to get dressed, and even after I had finished, Alex still hadn't gotten out of bed. I checked the clock, knowing she had to get to class soon. I wondered into her room, seeing her curled up in her leather reading chair, textbook propped against her knees, which had been pulled up to her chest as a makeshift table. I quietly slipped across the room, taking the book from her sleeping form and closing it on the desk. I nudged her once, then twice, before she finally woke up

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," I whispered, kneeling down to get a better look at her exhausted face. "Long night?" I asked, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. She gave me a groggy nod, seemingly still half asleep.

"Got a test today," She said, barely able to force the sentence out. I started to wonder if she was getting sick, and pressed the back of my hand against her forehead, noticing the heat that was radiating off of her.

"I think you're starting to get sick," I told her, pulling away with a worried look, "I think you should stay home today."

She shook her head violently, then seemed to regret it as she winced and grabbed her head. "Not sick, just tired," She muttered, trying to get out of the chair. I pushed her back down, grabbing a blanket off of her bed and throwing it over her.

"You're staying home today," I said, this time demanding it. She seemed to know that she wasn't going to win this battle and quit resisting, resting her head back on her knees and quickly falling asleep.

I left her room and went downstairs, heading into the kitchen to grab something to eat. I had barely gotten into the pantry when I heard a pounding on the front door. I grumbled softly, wondering who could be here so early in the morning. The pounding continued until I reached the front door, pulling it open with barely suppressed irritation.