Like clockwork, Isolde woke at exactly 6:45 am. She could already hear the sizzle of something frying, the little ding of their toaster, the microwave working and running water. Getting out of bed, Isolde walked into her closet and picked out her outfit for school.
Ten minutes later, Isolde is clothed with her bag packed and room pristine. Walking into the kitchen, she gave her mom her customary good morning hug and kiss on the cheek for her father.
“Dad, can you drop me at school?” Isolde asked, setting her bag on the counter and moving around the kitchen to assemble her breakfast. “Melaine is doing something today before going to school and, I didn’t ask Kira to come to get me and, I still have three days to go on my ban,” she explained, rolling her eyes at the last part. Honestly, the ban was ridiculous. It wasn’t her fault the police were incompetent or that people drive too slowly.
“Can you finish all of that, sweetie?” Mrs Candida asked, staring at Isolde’s loaded breakfast plate. She had a small bowl of greek yoghurt and fruit, an obscene amount of bacon on her plate, some baked beans and toast piled to the moon.
Isolde just nodded and dug into her food. “I can drop you but, you need to learn to drive properly or else I am going to seize your keys permanently,” Isolde’s father warned. It took Isolde all her strength to not roll her eyes and nod in consent.
The ride to school had been silent but not uncomfortably so. Upon arriving at school, Isolde told her dad not to worry about picking her up, that she would hitch a ride with one of her friends.
Walking into the school building, Isolde couldn’t place whatever emotion that washed through her. She thought she’d be excited about going back to school or upset because of whatever drama that was going to unfold this year. Shaking it off, she went by her locker and began arranging it for the term.
Bedroom
Cleto could hear the rustling of fabric from underneath his comforter. He decided to check what was causing the noise; an angry Madonna greeted him for his efforts. The 22-year-old looked ready to flay and castrate him. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and her right foot was tapping impatiently on the floor. She clothed to impress in a red and white two-piece suit with white stilettos.
“If you have finished admiring my outfit, I would appreciate it if you GOT THE F-CK UP!” Madonna drawled, breaking off into a yell towards the end. “I would very much like to use this suit for its intended purpose,” she continued after a breath.
Madonna took a few steps towards Cleto, where he wrapped in his comforter on his bed. “If you are not down in ten minutes, you can forget that ride to school. I’ll even take the extra time to disconnect your brainbox from your car,” she threatened, leaning over his face. “I’m I clear?”
It took all of Cleto’s nerves to stop him from shaking violently and hide beneath his comforter. He nodded hastily at her question and let a sigh of relief when she stepped out of his room.
With Madonna’s threat still fresh in his mind, he dashed into the bathroom and rushed through his morning routine. Seven-and-a-half minutes later, he was dressed and was making his way down to the kitchen.
He found his breakfast packed in a clear plastic container, with some pastries in a brown bag and a cup of takeaway coffee. God knows where Madonna found a cafe or coffee shop open that was willing to make his coffee at seven in the morning. Not wanting to question things and get himself in trouble, he dashed out the front door and into the car that was beginning to drive out the garage.
“Oh, you made it,” was all Madonna said to him when he got into the car. “I was hoping you’d have to walk or call an uber; tough luck then.”
“So you wanted to leave me?” Cleto asked, understandable offended and upset. All Madonna did was turn on the cars radio and ignore him. The ride to school was quicker than he expected. The moment he had his things and himself out of the car, Madonna drove off, not even telling him goodbye.
OOC: This post got out of hand real quick
Approachable
