feel it! (m!yanderes x f!reader)

The incessant vibrating of your phone beneath your pillow ripped you from a peaceful slumber, your eyes snapping open to the digital glow of 6:37 AM on a Sunday. A low, annoyed groan rumbled in your throat. "James fucking Bartell- there better be a good reason for waking me up this early on a day I don't have to open shop," you rasped, your voice thick with sleep. You rolled your eyes, a familiar exasperation bubbling up as his laughter echoed through the phone.

"What's so funny?"

His chuckles subsided, replaced by a teasing tone. "I just- I'm pretty sure you open every Monday morning at seven sharp? Well actually, you work practically every day... but maybe you took today off? I'm sorry, but you can't get mad at me for assuming you were already up when you work almost every day! And I'm only laughing because your morning voice is so... manly!"

Your eyes widened. Monday? A wave of panic washed over you as the realization hit. Yesterday was your rare day off; today, you were meant to be opening Francesca's in less than half an hour. You scrambled out of bed, adrenaline replacing grogginess. "I'm taking the day off you rude fucker- Jesus Christ it's Monday? No no no," you mumbled, cutting him off before he could respond. "Whatever it was you had to call about- text it. I gotta go, I'm already behind schedule."

You hung up abruptly, already halfway to your tiny bathroom, the familiar rush of a condensed morning routine beginning.