Her daily trek to the small, aged kitchenette was a graceful solo routine. Cerys danced down the hallway on sockless feet, eyes closed with the confidence of someone who knew her surroundings with supernatural accuracy. Her arms paused their glide in the air to silently finger-gun each and every disgruntled portrait hanging on the walls as Cerys passed them without breaking her stride or opening her deep brown eyes.

Crossing the chipped, wooden entryway into the kitchen space, the blonde inhaled deeply. Crisp Winter air filled her nose, travelling down her respiratory system with a pleasant chill. Cerys smiled at the familiar predictability that came with a situation such as hers. Other people may have viewed this as a nightmarish situation, but the blonde loved each and every moment stuck in her solitary time loop. Eyes still firmly closed, Cerys stepped towards the kitchen sink, reaching for the small glass she kept by the basin. She took a long, luxurious sip of water as her eyes opened lazily.

This was living.

“That is an obscene amount of glitter,” came the sudden voice behind her.

Cerys promptly spat her mouthful of water onto the window glass in front of her in her shock. Choking on a few stray droplets, the blonde whipped around to face the direction of the voice. This was not part of her daily routine. What the fuck?

As she regained her breath and wiped her mouth with her forearm, Cerys stared intensely at the person sitting far too comfortably on the faded leather opposite the breakfast bar.

The intruder leaned their elbows on top of the laminate bench, encased in a dark blue denim jacket. Their cropped hair, the colour of rust, curled lazily above quaint ears littered with various piercings. Most notably, they seemed nonchalant about their intrusion in Cerys’ morning. Their slight smile even seemed to indicate they found the blonde’s shock entertaining.

Prick.

Cerys gaped noiselessly at the stranger. In all of her...