It was early in the morning, golden specs of early morning sun singing through her dorm window. She shifted with a sleepy whine, cringing as the sun hit her face. She tried to get out of bed so she could close her curtains but a weight held her down. She was confused, she didn't sleep with anybody the night before.. she was completely sober, she would know.

Then her eyes widened, her head snapped to the side, pink hair falling into her eyes as she looked at the sleeping body next to her. Oh my god..

Maybe she was imagining it, her stingy bookshelf finally decided to fall on top of her and she was dead. Going to the after life in a knitted sweater and sleep shorts definitely was a vibe after all.

When had he even gotten here? She thought back to the night before, dozing off, him arriving and letting himself in.. him getting into bed with her and tugging her closer into his body. She couldn't complain, she was warm and comfortable.. and totally into it? Fuck, she promised herself she'd stop feeling this way about him but it was so damn hard when he was just so, him. She'd never fallen for anyone else like this.

"You're staring." His voice caught her off guard. How long had she been staring? How long had he been awake? Fuck, fuck, fuck.. Think with your head Gracie, she thought before stuffing her face into his chest instead, too embarrassed to face him.

"I'm not staring." Her voice was small and muffled against his chest, filled with embarrassment. "Well, not really.. I mean—not at all or whatever." She tried to be nonchalant but it totally wasn't working for her.

He didn't answer right away which scared her a little because what if maybe he was interested in her the way she was interested in him? What if he actually wanted her to stare? Wanted her to take in his face. God forbid, she was always talking in the little details of him.