It was quite the... strange morning.
The first thing she did, like always, was get up to brush her teeth and shower. The hot summer air made her sweat under her sheets, and it was a relief to get rid of the stickiness of the humid night. The weariness that plagued her did not stop her from slipping into a red cotton sundress; her choice of attire would probably help her with the unusual heat that had launched an assault against Darkwell City.
As she sauntered into the living room of her decently sized apartment, her arms were stretched above her head, tying her damp black hair into a messy bun. Even her fingers felt clumsy and heavy... she wondered if it was because she played too much last night. The fingers on her left hand were hurting the most, so she wouldn't be surprised it was due to the fact that she mashed the Q, W, E, and R keys way too many times.
Her stomach grumbled as she stepped out of her apartment, turning around to lock the door. Making sure that no one would be able to break into her humble yet beloved home, she placed her keys into her purse before striding down the halls of the apartment complex. Whitney sighed as she finally walked out onto the streets, blinking in the hot summer sun. Even though it was hot, she needed her breakfast... it wasn't like the diner was too far away. My blueberry muffin and lavender tea are waiting for me!
With a determined grin, Whitney sprinted down the white cement street and crossed the black asphalt road. A car almost hit her as she leapt onto the other side of the sidewalk, but she didn't care. She wanted to finally get something into her stomach, for if she didn't... well, she wouldn't be someone pleasurable to work with.
"Mornin'!" Whitney chirped as she stepped into the diner. Another pain struck her abdomen, making her she wince and rub her stomach. Well... that was new.
One of the waiters walked up to her, his brownish eyes dry and dull as always. Whitney recognized him as Garrett; while he usually worked and attended to her in the diner, he wasn't one for small talk or jests... which was pretty upsetting. "The usual, I suppose?" he said, moreso to himself than to her. Without another word between them, he guided her to a booth by the window. She sat down, grinning as she watched Garrett walk off, before allowing her gaze to flicker over the diner in search of other familiar faces.
Her eyes rested on a man at a corner table. She recognized him as Mr. Ravello, and he came to the diner more than she did-- and that was impressive. Whitney smiled as his green eyes peered over his newspaper at her. "Hi, Mister," she greeted him as always. "Enjoying your coffee, today?"
The man quirked an eyebrow. "The usual," Mr. Ravello answered her. "A little too dark for my taste, to be honest."
Whitney's smile didn't waver. "You seem like the 'dark' type to me, though."
The man sighed, rustled his newspaper, and didn't answer. A few moments after, the grumpy waiter came over with a small white plate and cup. Garrett placed the muffin and cup of tea in front of her, along with a silver spoon. Before he left, she took a bite of the pastry. "Delicious as always, Garrett," Whitney commented on its sweetness. "Why don't you become a cook or a baker? Better than being a waiter, eh?"
Garrett blinked down at her with a blank and tired expression. "Yeah, yeah," he said, beginning to walk away. "Don't 'forget' to leave me tip, this time."