September 13, 2015

She opens her eyes, the surroundings foreign. Her eyes try adjusting but light breaks the window, illuminating the room. She rubs them, charcoal mascara clumping and breaking off onto her cheeks. The bed comes into focus and she’s lying sideways—they’re lying sideways. His body mirrors hers. He inhales deeply as his body turns ever so slightly to stretch. She looks at her phone—9:46am. They’ve been sleeping for a few hours. With a small kiss, he wakes. They lock eyes and he smiles, warming her in a way the blankets cannot. He opens his phone and starts scrolling. As she recalls the events of earlier this morning, exhaustion falls back over her. She reaches out for him and takes his hand in hers, their fingers intertwined in mid-morning calm. He squeezes slightly, assuring her. She thinks about Friday, about him, about them—her head spins. “Just friends” was a concept she believed in until this moment, seeing a future in his eyes. She lays her head next to his and melts into the comfort of their morning.


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