take a bite [WESTLEY]

[desiree jezebel de luca;]

As most people could vouch for, waking up on the wrong side on bed in the morning had a tendency to have lasting effects. Perhaps every minor irritation was simply magnified by the preset sense of annoyance one woke up experiencing on such days, but Desiree wanted to point out that pouring coffee on herself was not something that happened very often, nor was it something that she would categorize as a mere minor irritation.

Reflecting back to this morning, she had a slight inclination to believe that perhaps she should have predicted that today would be a bad day. On typical mornings, she crawled out of bed with mussed hair, feeling groggy and neutral and yearning for her daily cup of coffee for a wakeup call. However, this morning, she had the misfortune of quite literally rolling out of her bed and onto the floor and then banging her head on the corner of her nightstand. After rolling around, clutching her head and grumbling a few profanities for a good three minutes or so, she finally stood up and prepared for the day, only to discover that she fell asleep the previous night with wet hair while in the middle of reading an article she was working on, resulting in untameable, messy blonde locks hanging in her face and a crumpled article in her hands. She proceeded to stomp around through her small hotel room angrily before burying her face into her pillow to scream like a banshee.

Never being one to sulk for too long, Desiree eventually stopped her fussing to make a partially successful attempt at styling her hair and eventually, she managed to tie it into a stylishly messy bun to match the casual look she decided to go with today. After finally proceeding with and finishing up her morning routine, she slipped into a tank top and a pair of skinny jeans, hoping that she could officially start off her day at least somewhat decently by getting herself a cup of iced coffee, but that proved to further ruin her already badly started day.

All had seemed well when she paid a visit to a local coffee house that she frequently made trips to until she received the beverage she ordered and gripped the rim of the plastic cup, picking it up and taking a sip before the cup detached from the lid. She continued to grip the lid as she stared at the mess that the coffee made on her shirt, feeling angry and embarrassed at what had just occurred. A few of the other people in the coffee house covered their mouths in an attempt to stifle their laughter while others gave her a sympathetic look. An employee stumbled out carrying a bucket and mop and began to clean up the puddle of coffee on the floor while she tightened her jaw and tried to seem uncaring as she picked up the now empty cup and tossed it into the trash can along with its lid.

Once Desiree left, she felt her cheeks flush and she immediately tugged at the edge of her tank top, trying to put some distance between the soaked fabric and her skin. She looked around almost desperately, wondering where the closest clothing store was. Her solution came in the form of the merch booths, where she caught a glimpse of T-shirts being sold. Sending it a grateful glance, she quickly sped over and kept her head down, hoping that few people would recognize her face. Rushing slightly, she grabbed the first T-shirt her fingers felt and shoved a couple of crumpled bills into the hands of the merch at the booth before quickly turning away. She looked around carefully before ducking underneath the display that held examples of T-shirts available for sale. Feeling a temporary sense of safety and privacy in the cover of the shadows, she moved as fast as she could and slipped off her tank top before putting on the newly bought shirt. Sighing lightly, she crawled from behind the display and stood up, holding her head up now that she was no longer sporting a stained shirt, though she hoped that no one noticed that she had done a quick change in what was virtually in public. Her blue eyes drifted downwards and a wry smile formed on her lips when she realized she had grabbed an Ever Since We Met T-shirt that hung a bit loosely on her slim frame.

tag;; Westley
word count;; 7 4 7
muse;; great~
notes;; Gah, I started out weirdly, and I think the name of the thread is random and weird, so I'm sorry. D: