Thought Bubbles ~ A Destiel Love Story

c h a p t e r o n e

0500 ~ 5:00am ~ early

*zz-zz-zz-zz-zzz-zz-zz-zzzz*

I slid my arm out from beneath my covers and turned off my obnoxiously loud alarm.

Time to start the routine.

Standing up, I walked across the dark hall to the bathroom, making sure to keep quiet.

Within seconds I was back to my room and changing for the day...

Black skinny jeans were on the menu, today. Actually, they're on the menu every day. Not, like, on an actual menu, though.

My bright Orange Friday's shirt popped out at me as soon as the closet door had finished gliding across its tracks.

God I hate wearing Orange... ugliest colour on the planet.

I pulled it off its hanger and let it fall over my head, flattening my bed-hair in the process.

I was very precise and orderly in everything I did.

Then it was the hair. I had to tame it as best as I could, put a little product in it, and then make sure that the front was spiked a teeny bit.

I never did my hair another way.

And finally the shoes: my favorite Black Converse, plus a pair of black ankle socks.

I never wore anything else.

After grabbing my water bottle, backpack, and trench coat, I stalked to the front room to do my chores and have something that resembles breakfast.

Setting my bag down, I filled my water bottle and grabbed my lunch from the fridge. I set these down on the table and grabbed some Poptarts, eating a couple bites and then setting those down as well so I could put the dishes away.

I never did anything else.

It was already 6:30am, which meant I only had about 10 minutes until I have to leave.

Shoving the rest of the Poptarts into my mouth, I scratched my second youngest cat, Lucifer, behind the ear. He hissed and batted my hand away.

What a great name for a little bitch like him.

I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, smiling - or attempting to - at the mirror to reassure myself that it would be a good day.

It's a Friday. Be happy.

And I almost was. Except-

"Castiel."

I turned away from the door leading to my freedom and faced my mother, a kind woman with a few too many problems.

"Your wi-"

"Yes I know. I'll do it on the way to school. And don't say anything about people judging me for them. It's not the '80's anymore."

But people will judge me for them, no matter what decade it is.

And with that I walked out the front door, backpack in hand.

Fuck I hate this...

I strapped my backpack over my chest and kind of laughed at myself.

I must look like a pregnant woman.

And then, as I walked to school, I got to work...

...cleaning my wings.

•~• •~• •~• •~• •~•

A/N
sorry
i know my writing isn't very good.
you're probably bored half to death
but i promise it'll get better.
please just
just
bare with me here.