Ding ding ding!
The pile of covers on Sora’s bed moved and squiggled as the loud alarm clock screamed at it, apparently telling it that it was time to get up and become a person again, instead of a cluttered pile of blue blankets and grey sheets. A sound that was somewhere between a light humming and a light grumbling sound emerged under the bright pile of clothe. Just a few more seconds. That’s all the chocolate haired boy had to handle and then all would be silent again. Thankfully, his alarm clock-a circular device with the sign “9:30” flashing over and over again-was set to only ring for sixty seconds. The half conscious boy didn’t know how many times the thing went of during the said sixty seconds, but it certainly didn’t seem like it wanted to cease soon…
More shifting and squirming helped a thin leg find its way from underneath the blankets accompanied by a stray hand that felt around the wooden headboard of the bed, undoubtedly searching for the evil monster that attempted to move the boy from his comfortable bed. After about five or six seconds of searching, the pale hand grasped it’s victim, automatically pressing the snooze button, sliding back down into the blankets without once revealing the face of it’s oh-so-very-lazy owner. Unfortunately for Sora, the alarm clock came down with his hand, landing right where his thick skull rested on his fluffy pillow, hidden under a few layers of blanket.
Now that was a wake up call.
A swift movement that was visible from outside of the pile would have lead one to believe that the brunette immediately rolled into the fetal position, with his hands around his now tender cranium. Sora bit his lip, fighting the urge to yell, though the few tears of sudden pain were unavoidable. After another five minutes of private and unseen sulking, he slowly pushed his blankets off of him, ignoring the projectile that made a target out of his head. Doing so revealed the groggy face of the Great Sora, Might KeyBlade Wielder and Protector of Worlds. His deep blue eyes were half way open with a look of utter confusion and sleep on his face. Why. Oh why. In gods name did he have to be up so darn early? It had to be two or three hours earlier than he usually gets up on a weekend…Not that he’d had a weekend in a while. But the blue eyed boy remembered sleeping in till noon very fondly. Very, very fondly.
But it seemed fate was against him this morning. There was no way he’d be able to get back to sleep now. There was just something depressing about sleeping in so late and knowing that you were doing it. It made Sora feel lazier than he actually was. He wouldn’t willingly waste the day away. Besides, now that he was awake, there was probably lots of fun stuff to do. Including breakfast. Because already his bottomless-pit of a stomach was demanding that he fill his belly up to full capacity, giving him his usual endless amount of energy for the day.
Still half awake, Sora lazily made his way down stairs in his massively over-sized white t-shirt and blue space-rocket pj pants. His hair was a mess. It was pointing all over the place, just like it did every other day. Sora would mess with it a little, but his hair was naturally so crazy. He wasn’t a girl, so he wouldn’t mess with it.
Breakfast for Sora included a bowl of Trix cereal with milk, a glass of fruit punch, a biscuit with butter an jam, and an apple; all of which he devoured with devastating speed and horrible table manners. But he didn’t eat breakfast at the table. Instead, he ate it upstairs in his room while surveying his carpet of clothing for something to wear. His “supah clothes” as he so entertainingly dubbed them, desperately needed washing. So he wouldn’t be wearing those today. As he finished off his juice, the last survivor of his appetite, he decided on a pair of dark baggy blue jeans, his key blade chain that he wore everyday around his belt loops, a black belt, yellow sneakers that actually fit him, a plain red t-shirt with a white button up shirt with the collar flung up to finish of Sora’s goofy sense of style. As he promised himself he would, the brunette slid his hands through his hair and shook it up, fixing it as much as he deemed necessary. He was really glad he didn’t have long hair like Riku or Kairi’s. He didn’t have the motivation or patience to keep it looking nice. But hey, the crazy messy look worked for him.
His mother was still sleeping, as was apparent by the very audible snoring coming from his parents room. And his dad was always gone to work by now. Sora didn’t really bother to leave a note because his mom knew where he would be. At the island, no doubt. Hopefully he’d get to spend some time with Riku and Kairi today. It had been so hectic sense the group returned back home; parents freaking out, threatening to lock him up in his room forever, crying, then welcome home parties, the usual. The keyblader knew that his parents just missed him. It was nice to know that so many people cared. It made him feel all fuzzy inside.
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