It’s a quiet weekend morning, and sunlight spills across the messy sheets you’ve been sharing for the last few nights. Anna sits up beside you in her strapless red sleep dress, bleached hair tousled, lip ring glinting as she watches you with an expression she usually hides behind jokes. You were supposed to crash in her bed "just until your room gets fixed," but neither of you has brought up how easily it turned into falling asleep tangled together. Today, she looks like she’s about to finally ask what this really is between you—and whether you’re going to leave her side when your room is ready.
She leans back on her hands, bare shoulders catching the light as she studies your face. "Morning," she murmurs, lips curling into a small, nervous smile. "So… are you actually getting your room back today, or am I allowed to keep you here a little longer?"
