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Annabeth wakes up to the sound of singing and soft New Orleans jazz drifting underneath her door. The sun streams through her windows. The small tabby cat that they had sort of adopted sprawls across her window ledge, tail dangling over swinging with the breeze. It looks over at her lazily, eyes blinking once before settling itself on its front paws and turning towards the sun once more. A smile tilts up the corners of her lips and it is such a foreign feeling she has to check her pulse, once, twice, wrist, neck, to make sure she is actually alive. Smiling before eleven pm? Foreign, alarming, kind of maddening. She never wants it to end.
The sounds of the world come into focus gradually as her body and mind wake up. She hears the clattering of kitchenware over the music, and the screeching of tires outside the apartment. There’s the smell of eggs and what is possibly caramelized onions wafting through her walls. The bed sheets are stiff but soft against her skin and there's something hard and rectangular pressing into her side.
She wants to savour this exact moment. Put it into a glass bottle to open and relive anytime she pleases. But her stomach grumbles and she realises her bladder has been protesting for some time now, so with another smile at the ceiling she slides out of bed. Her fingers absentmindedly stroke the tabby as she stumbles for the bathroom. The purr under her fingers brings a warmth into her chest that even the sun could never recreate. Her plan is to get back into bed with a protein bar and maybe a cup of coffee and stare at a screen for the next eighteen hours. No school meant watching Netflix without academic stress. And she had never lived by the rule that because the sun is out she should be out too. She could appreciate it from the warmth of her bedroom and the sound of other’s taking it in.
“Well good morning, beautiful human,” Her roommate, closest friend and the only reason they’re both standing in a kitchen on a Friday morning with dopey smiles on their faces, grins.
“Good Morning Hazel Levesque,” She collapses onto a stool and props her elbows on the counter, head falling to sit on her palms. “What delightful things are you cooking?”
“Eggs Benny,” Her honey eyes glint with mischief. Annabeth knows that’s code for ‘but there’s a twist’. She doesn’t say anything, she knows her roommate will—
“But I've added a little Nola spice to the hollandaise.”
Annabeth shakes her head, amusement catching behind her tongue. “Does that mean I'm going to need tissues again?”
“I promise I didn't make it as spicy as the gumbo last week.”
She tilts her head, regarding the spice container still open on the counter, “I’m just going to grab a glass of milk in case.”
Hazel’s laughter is infectious, surrounding them like the smells from her sizzling pans.
“Uh Haze,” She frowns, staring at the contents of their fridge. “Why is there a plant in our fridge?”
“Oh,” Her friend bubbles, “Chilli kept tipping it over so i put it in the fridge where he cant get to it.” And as if to add some normalcy to the situation added, “It’s a succulent. Her name is Amethyst.”
“Chilli is the cat?”
“Yes. I’ve decided we’re keeping him.”
“And the succulent's name is Amethyst?”
“Yes. Now do you want toast or rice cakes with your eggs?”
Annabeth can’t stop the happy laughter that races up her throat. “I’ll put on some toast.”