"She had a galaxy in her eyes, a universe in her mind."

woken up with one thing on her mind.

Her sweet buns.

She had slept for a good forty minutes and the two buns that sat on her night table were no longer warm. Grabbing them off the table, Freya pouted slightly but eagerly bit into the fluffy goodness anyway.

Her parents had yet to arrive home, but that was nothing unusual. She pulled herself up from the bed, fiddling with the bottom of her sweater as she pattered towards her desk. She bit off another piece of the bun as she eyed the white bag laying in front of her.

She needed to do work. She knew that.

But she really couldn't be bothered.

Stuffing another bit of bread in her mouth and softly shrugging her shoulders to herself, she turned away from her desk, deciding that there was plenty of time to do work later. For now, she had more important activities.

Freya knelt on the floor next to her bed, reaching underneath to pull out a small chest. A smile tickled the sides of her lips as she unclasped the lid and opened the box; inside were her most prized possessions.

Her sketching pencils.

She pulled out the roll up bag, revealing the multitude of papers underneath. Reaching underneath the bed again, she pulled out an art book, opening it to the first page. All the pages she had used before had been carefully cut out and placed inside her chest to hide them from snooping eyes. She unrolled the small bag, grasping a 2B pencil in her hand, poising it above the paper before halting. Freya's teeth caught hold of her bottom lip as she debated on what to draw; it didn't take long to decide.

Her hand begun moving across the paper, alternating the pressure as she tried to do justice to the real thing. Her tongue crept along her lips, poking out at the edge as she concentrated on the image in her head; it was a habit she had failed to grow out of.

After a good ten minutes, Freya was finally semi-satisfied with the finished product in front of her; though there seemed to still be something missing.

Colour.

She got up, scampering off to her desk as she obsessively searched for her coloured pencils. She knew they were in one of the drawers. She let out a huff of victory and plopped back down on the floor before getting back to work. She usually hated working with colour, but she needed it this time. The colour was the most important and captivating thing about the image.

She worked even longer on this portion of the picture. Twenty-five minutes had flown by before she finally sat back with a small smile. She stretched up, trying to rid her body of kinks but only succeeded in falling onto her back. She giggled slightly, rolling to the side before reaching down and grabbing the artbook. She bit her lip as she stared at the picture; she wasn't going to pretend that she didn't know what it was. She knew full well who's eyes she had drawn.

The dark green irises seemed to leap off the page and she felt her heart race as if he was actually in the room with her. Her body's response confused her, but she couldn't deny that she enjoyed the feeling. A small part of her wished he truly was there.

That's when Freya decided to stop denying it and fess up.

She was slightly crushing on the broody boy who had touched her as if she were made of porcelain and he was scared of breaking her. She couldn't help it. Having never received all that much attention from boys before, her naïve heart had grasped onto the first one who did. She couldn't help but feel it was the right decision though; he made her feel safe. How could that be a bad thing?

A high-pitched voice sounded from downstairs, breaking Freya out of her thoughts. She quickly stuffed the pencils back into her chest, excitedly shoving it under her desk before placing her book and coloured pencils on her desk and running out of the room. She bounded down the stairs, her grin growing the closer she got to the voices. As soon as she caught sight of two blonde-haired heads, she pushed her short legs to go faster, throwing herself at the taller of the two figures.

Freya's father let out a reverberant laugh, holding her to his chest as he swung her around. He set her down after a moment, identical brown eyes staring into her own as Freya grinned up at him. "How was your day my princess?" his deep voice rumbled, sending a wave of comfort over her. Freya kept her arms around her father's neck, bouncing in her spot.

"It was good," she chirped. "I went and got ice cream with Penn after school." Something inside her told her that was the safer option to tell him, rather than inform him of her new friend. She didn't think her father would approve.

The man's face lit up at her words, a pleased smile coating his features. "I'm glad you two get along well," he said, his expression slightly smug.

Freya's mind wandered back to the argument that had occurred between her and Penn, but she nodded her agreeance nonetheless. A shuffle behind them reminded the young girl of the second person in the room. Turning around, she was met with the view of her step-mother pulling off her long overcoat, almost chucking into the butler's arms. Freya watched the man scramble with it for a second, a small frown overtaking her face before she quickly replaced it with a polite smile.

"Darling," her step-mother cried dramatically. Her arms opened, gathering the tiny girl to her body as she placed feather kisses on Freya's forehead. She loved her step-mother, truly; but the relationship between them wasn't the best.

She would always be more of a daddy's girl.

Having had enough of the overly-dramatic and slightly fake affection, Freya subtly wiggled her way out of her step-mother's arms just as Kendra called for dinner. The family of three made their way towards the dining room, Freya's father hooking an arm around her shoulders as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Freya skipped towards her seat; to the left of her father who sat at the head of the modest table. Her step-mother seated herself to her father's right. Kendra entered a moment later, a tray of steaming food held in her ageing hands. Freya's eyes lit up at the sight of silverside beef and the assortment of potatoes and vegetables. It was her favourite meal. She grinned at the maid, earning an eager smile back as Kendra served her.

Freya impatiently waited for the rest of her family to be served, fidgeting and shifting in her seat as her father said a quick prayer. Finally, she was allowed to eat and she did so with vigour. She moaned in delight, earning a look from her step-mother as she continued to stuff her face full of perfectly boiled potatoes and red meat. Freya heard her huff from across the table, but ignored it for the time being; being a lady could wait.

She finished her meal well before the others and sat back in her seat, rubbing her slightly inflated stomach. She caught her parent's eyes every so often as she let her eyes trail around the room; her father sent her warm smiles and playful winks while her step-mother pursed her lips at Freya's licked-clean plate. They finally finished, her father copying Freya's mannerisms while her step-mother pushed away a half-finished plate, daintily dabbing at her mouth with a spotless white cloth. As soon as her father pushed his chair out from under the table, Freya was up and out of her seat, running back to the comfort of her room.

She closed the door with a pleased sigh, her features lighting as her eyes caught sight of the forgotten art book. She skipped over to her desk, picking up the book as she flopped into the plush chair. She stared at the picture for a few moments, her lips quirking even further up at the corners. She let out a breath of air, opening a drawer and pulling out a pair of scissors. Carefully, she cut out the page, placing the scissors back on the table once she was done.

She dropped to the floor, crawling over to her bed and pulling out her chest. Pulling out her roll up bag of pencils, she tentatively placed the new artwork atop the others. She stared for a few more seconds, not for any particular reason, before placing the bag back inside, covering the intoxicating dark green.

She closed the chest, her fingers lingering on the curved top for a moment before pushing it back under her bed. She got up from the floor, dusting herself off just as she turned to face her desk again. Freya let out a frustrated breath at the sight of her white book bag, but decided there was no point putting off the inevitable. She reluctantly pulled her dragging feet back to her chair, plopping down and taking out the first book she felt. She grimaced at the random shapes and angles littering the front cover but got to work anyway.

However, no matter how many equations she solved or words she wrote, her drawing remained in the forefront of her mind. It made her wonder how close it was to the real thing; was it better or worse? She wouldn't know until she saw him again tomorrow.

And for some reason, the thought of seeing him again brightened her mood immensely.