The year someone turns 18 they have the opportunity to be injected with a serum that will produce a soulmate mark somewhere on their body. This serum is costly and the procedure to get the injection is not covered by insurance.
A rare illness cropp...
A/N: A Suggestion. Probably shouldn't read this chapter when hungry.
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When my alarm goes off at seven the following morning I'm most definitely not ready for it. Getting to sleep the previous night had proved quite difficult, although the bath did help me relax from my euphoric delirium. It still didn't do that great of a job turning my brain off. That isn't stopping me from making breakfast for my guys this morning though. Before I start anything I make sure the coffee machine is going for those that drink it in the morning.
Breakfast is going to be a huge endeavor however. I planned a portable breakfast, in case I run out of time. But, it requires a lot of steps. I get out everything I need. Eggs, milk, potatoes, calabresa sausage, onions, cheese, roasted peppers, garlic salt, season-salt, and extra-virgin olive oil.
Because everything is in metric I first google the conversion I need for the oven and set it as close to 218° Celsius as I can (since that is the closest measurement to 425° F). Then I peel and cube the potatoes, placing them in a mixing bowl when they have been cut. Once that is done I grab the extra-virgin olive oil and lightly drizzle some over the potatoes. I use a spoon to make sure each cube is lightly coated. I spoon out the potatoes on a cookie sheet that I have already lined with aluminum foil. I lightly sprinkle the seasoning salt over that.
Once those are in the oven I grab an onion and begin to dice it. That's when I hear footsteps on the stairs. It's obvious he is still half asleep when he peeks his head through the doorway and his face looks puffy. "You're making breakfast?"
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I smile at Yoongi. "Yes, yes I am." He rubs his eyes. "There's coffee percolating behind me." I'm sure he can hear the auditory drip, but perhaps he isn't actually aware of it with how drowsy he looks.
He grunts sleepily in response and grabs a mug to help himself. I have started peeling an onion when he has had a couple of sips and seems a tad more human. "I'll prep the onion, Daisy. How do you want it cut?"
I briefly consider telling him I got it. But there are so many steps I could really use the assistance. "Diced please." He nods to me in confirmation.
