Skipping, Sleep, and Shenanigans

Bzzzt. Bzzzzt Bzzzzt.
The familiar buzz from her alarm clock annoyed the brunette ghost, as she sunk deeper into the sheets on her bed. Her body was a tangle of limbs and her hair was equally tangly. Her eyes were shut tight. No, it wasn't what you'd think, not at all - instead, there were hundreds of tiny little color-coded cue cards, arranged haphazardly around her. Some of them had fallen onto the carpet. She had been studying again. Science, she thought dimly. It must have been. Or - maybe that was art she had been studying. She couldn't remember anymore. On the end table stood her usual vices - a cup of peppermint tea long gone cold, a few Mars Bar wrappers, and of course her trusty glasses. Everywhere one looked, one could find papers usually - but not like this, all spread out and covering every inch of the floor.
Bzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzt.
Aswan groaned, reached a groggy hand out, and smashed it into her phone's screen, slim fingers prodding around for the snooze button she knew would grant her an extra five minutes of sleep. Oh, to sleep for only five more minutes... That would be a godsend. Class, she thought, started at 9:00 today - that meant another hour of sleep. OR was it even a Thursday today? Aswan couldn't think through the massive headache she had,, nor could she think through the grogginess that felt like molasses.
Finally, the alarm from her phone fell silent as Aswan tapped what she presumed to be the snooze button. She rolled over, her arm falling against her pillow, and let out a tired sigh. She tried opening her eyes - to find that she couldn't keep them open for longer than a second, and then decided. Today was a Thursday - her first class today was at 9:00. Of course she could sleep for another half-hour before she needed to get ready. One more half-hour, and then she could muster up her efforts and take on the first class of the day. Her to-do list stood above her end-table - now it seemed to be neverending, a forever-running parchment of things to do. Somewhere near the bottom was rest. Top priority right now, she thought.
As she once again drifted off to sleep, she didn't notice three things.
One, it was light outside - usually Aswan rose with the dawn (or stayed up to meet it, mostly).
Two, she had pressed "dismiss" - the alarm wouldn't ring again until tomorrow morning.
Three, it was a Wednesday - which meant that her first class started in a couple of minutes.
And before she knew it, she was asleep again, lulled by the droning of a very familiar bell far away.

Thankfully, the kitchen seemed to have been left untouched - it was spotless, characteristic of Aswan's organization skills. The only evidence she had used it at all was a few dishes in the drain tray - clean of course. A stack of blue cue cards were set near the stove, and there was a pink set near the kettle, on top of the tea box. Clipped to the fridge were several reminders - for things like Roland's tutoring, and the art assignment, among other things.
Over in the next room (her bedroom) the brunette rolled again, this time with a soft thud - her foot had fallen off the bed. A cough was heard as well, and then...
"Ugh... Advil where..." she muttered in a barely audible voice. It sounded as if her voice had become distorted. And it was... By grogginess.
Aswan had woken up for a second, but to no use - she had tried to lift her head but had fallen back asleep, with a sigh.
Her steady breathing resumed - she had no idea, of course, that Roland was there.
There was another paper pinned neatly over the sink - it showed, in hurried but neat cursive, a recipe in shorthand:
"Breakfast To Go:
1 egg + 1 str. bcn + 1c grn onion chop + salt&pepper.
Microwave 3 min Oven 3.5 min
Muff. tin makes 12. "

"Get over here," Aswan muttered, dropping down into a crouch to grab some gauze she kept in a low cabinet. "God, do you know how worried I was? Especially to see you in the kitchen? I thought you'd caught on fire." Also retrieving a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a little white cloth, she beckoned to Roland. "Or chopped your hand off. Or something - and in the morning, too? Seriously!"
She surveyed the kitchen. Now that the immediate shock was gone, she could see the situation - and the damage - clearer - Roland was fine. The fire she'd smelled was nowhere in sight: probably managed by his fire magic. The oven was off now, thankfully. Or maybe that had been part of the problem. She couldn't tell. At least it was off now - there was enough of a charred mess on the muffin tins she'd planned on washing that she started to question how even Roland had tried to cook them. Fire magic, maybe? Maybe he'd put the muffin tin in the microwave.
The knife? Probably slid off the thing he was cutting. Onions, green ones, lay there in the middle of the cutting board, haphazardly cut, stringy and now soggy.
At least she had enough time to go to cl - oh. A quick check of the clock on the wall revealed the time to be almost an hour into her first class. Nevermind.
Aswan sighed, rubbing her temples in frustration. Uuugh. This headache wasn't making this easier for her. But then again...
She stopped and walked over to her well-meaning boyfriend with a tired look on her face. He HAD meant well. He really did try... a little too hard.... but she loved his little shenanigans. And him in general. He'd tried to care for her, when she had finally slipped up on her perfect schedule. Roland really had tried. How did she deserve this romantic, goofy, and amazing mage? Her initial anger melted away.
Forget class for today - she had already missed more than half her first class anyways. She could return for her third class, if she really needed to - she'd already done the course work in advance. It was time to spend some quality time with her boyfriend.
"Love, I knew you meant well... and I apologize for the outburst." She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, their noses almost touching. "Remind me to never let you into the kitchen again." Aswan broke away from him and smiled. "If you'll stay here, I'll just pop a few Advils, come back out and dress your wounds. And then I'll teach you how to not give me ghostly heart attacks. And maybe how to cook." She laughed, still a little angry but mostly relieved that he was okay, and that he meant well.

Aswan nodded in agreement at his statement. "Yes, you should have." Another long kiss, glad he was alright, and then she pulled away, clearing her throat and blushing wildly. Her stomach was yelling at her again. Advils always did this to her.... Ugh. Remembering his cut, she sighed and gently raised his hand to look at it. "Lord, that's a very bloody cut... How did you even cut it like this?" She'd heard his statement about his healing magic and stopped completely, almost-statue like.
"You have a healing spell." OF COURSE he did. Aswan wasn't sure if she should be surprised or not. Either way, she was more than a little miffed, but she decided to let it go - she was already kind of angry at him as it was. "I'm still going to clean it and dress it."
And that's exactly what she did - the brunette gently cleaned the wound with warm water. "It may hurt a little bit - please be patient." Every movement was calculated, careful, caring.
"In any case... Make yourself at home, I suppose. I have to clean your mess." This time it was playfully scolding, her tone, as she gingerly kissed his hand, then dropped it as she strutted over to her kitchen, grabbing a scrubby and beginning to scrub the charred muffin tin.
Lord. Sometimes, she thought - sometimes humanity puzzled her. She loved Roland to death (quite literally - she herself was dead), but sometimes his antics were almost too much. Still - he had charm, and he meant well, and he really did love her. And she loved him, too. Luckily nothing had gotten on her notes, nothing had happened to them. Which was good - she'd need those a lot now.