She hates the mornings.
She has never been much of a morning person; letting go of dreams isn't easy.
But it helps if the night before her dreams were plagued by nightmares.
In any event, she despises waking up early, and finds great comfort in drawing a warm bath to let the soreness, the tiredness of laying down on her back, of tossing and turning in her sleep, go away.
She gets out feeling refreshed, and she hums on reflex as she combs her hair, in the same way her mother used to do so.
And as she opens the door to his room, and gazes at his sleeping form, the calm tranquility in his face, the way his mouth is slightly open, the soft snores coming from him, she feels guilty for waking him up.
That's probably what she hates the most.
----- -----
She loves sitting down under her tree.
Not a lot of people are aware, but this is her safe heaven, her reserved space.
The dorks can have the low ground, and the stooges always go to the roof.
Wondergirl can stay in the stuffy hot classroom for all she cares.
But it's under the Sakura tree that she feels truly at peace, at eats for the duration of the lunch hour. Nothing can touch her here; no one can anger her with stupid statistics and grades.
For just a brief moment she entertains the notion of not being herself, of being someone else.
But then she sees him walking to her tree, carrying the bentos he always does.
And so she smiles and gratuitously lets him step into her universe, breach her sanctuary and sit with her.
In her tree.
