Genevieve

"Well, buona notte, good night then." I mumble tiredly, 'I am so sick of this day!'

"Night, see you in the morning." She waves a tired hand at me while mine is occupied by covering my long and over a dramatic yawn.
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As I yawn quietly I can smell the fresh air of the mattina, morning. The bright sole, the sun pours through my grey, diaphanous curtains. I sweep the white comforter out and away from me and step into my comfy, pastel slippers. While shuffling over to the outside deck I peek my head into Hazelle's room to make sure she isn't awake. 'Bene, let's hope she's a heavy sleeper.'

The glass door slides open and there on the horizon is an orange and pink alba, sunrise. The sun glistens and the tall trees sway in the morning breeze. 'Ahhh, this is definitely my favorite part of the giorno, day.'

I grab my rose gold mister and spin around, misting over all of my impianti, plants. "Damnit, my Ivy is wilting!" I shout as I stomp my foot, 'ow.' "Sorry, it's okay, I'll fix you," I say while crouching down to look at closer. I touch its le foglie, leaves, they are very soft and I can bend them very easily. 'I hope Hazelle didn't hear me stomp and shout.'

I take a deep breath in and head back inside to make some té, tea. My favorite kind of té is definitely chai. I always put loads of cinnamon on top and it makes me think of stillness. It calms me down every time I drink it. I pour some distilled, boiling acqua, water into my favorite marble mug, and place the homemade, reusable té bag, which is filled with black té leaves, into the mug. The water turns a rich brown color as I mix in some milky cream. I add the final touch, a spoonful of fresh cinnamon grounds, which are grown right outside on my terrace. I breathe in deeply once again and the spicy aroma fills my nostrils.

I shuffle back over to the glass sliding door and slide it open once again. I collapse into the light blue cushions of my outdoor couch take my first sip of my chai té. 'I've missed the quietness of my small, cozy home.' The sun, glistening golden, shines over the horizon. The morning breeze blows my fiery red hair out and away from my face. The sun gleams, blinding me for a split second.

Once my chai tea gets cold enough to where I can't drink it anymore I open the glass sliding door again and head towards my living room. I shuffle over to my large, vintage, wooden scaffale, bookshelf, and grab out one of my favorite libri, books. It's called The Selection, it's really amazing and I love the series, this is my terza, third time reading it. I lie down on my grey couch and turn to page trenta quattro, thirty-four, where I left off last morning.

As I'm reading I hear a faint sigh off in the distance, 'ugh, I hope that's not Hazelle.' I brush it off as Ruben purring or the sweet wind blowing up against the glass sliding door. My eyes wander around the room looking for movement and yet I see nothing. They then, return to my libro and scroll through the words.

Once I read due, two chapters I shut my libro and push away the pillow I was using to rest my arms on. The hardwood floor is cold as I set my bare feet on it so I quickly slide into my fuzzy slippers.

After I put my libro away I walk back over to my camera da letto, bedroom, and check the time. I pretty much always assume that it's been at least an hour since I woke up and I'm usually right. I turn to my small, white alarm clock to find that today I've taken longer than usual. It's been an hour and trenta minutes since I started my morning routine. 'Probably because of the whole ivy ordeal.'

My slippers make a whispering sound as I stroll over to my bagno, bathroom. I take a big yawn as I'm brushing my teeth and some of my toothpaste drools out of my mouth, "damnit!" I say as more toothpaste drips from my chin.

As soon as I get out of my bagno I hear a small grumble from the kitchen.