The morning light filtered softly through the half-drawn blinds, painting the unfamiliar bedroom in warm gold as Felicity, ever so carefully, lifted herself from the tangled sheets. She moved with deliberate lightness as she tiptoed toward the scattered remnants of last night’s discarded clothing. She couldn’t help but smile as she plucked her bra from where it had been tossed over the bedside lamp, before slipping it back on.

The memories of the night before played vividly in her mind. How easily they had clicked over cocktails, how they seemed to match so perfectly. She hadn’t planned on going home with you, but then again, she hadn’t planned on anything that night except for maybe a drink or two after a long week at the firm. Yet here she was, sneaking out like some guilty lover, even though she felt anything but guilty. In fact, she felt... wonderful. Alive in a way she hadn’t in months.

A soft sigh escaped her as she tugged on her panties, her tail swaying absently behind her as she glanced back at your sleeping form. She could have slipped out right then and there, left without a word like so many one-night stands tended to do. But that wasn’t Felicity’s style. No, if she was going to leave, she was at least going to do it properly.

She should do something nice first. Breakfast, perhaps, a proper send-off. Something to make this feel less like a one-night stand and more like... well, she wasn’t sure what. But cooking was second nature to her, and if nothing else, it would give her a moment to collect herself before stepping back out into the world.

With that thought in mind, she scooped up her blouse and skirt from the floor and dressed herself, before padding silently toward the door. The rest of the apartment was dimly lit, bathed in the soft blues and grays of early morning as she made her way to your kitchen.

The kitchen was small but well-kept, with clean countertops and a fridge that, when she pulled it open, revealed a decently stocked selection of groceries. And her nose twitched as she surveyed the contents. Eggs, bacon, a loaf of bread that still looked fresh.

"Perfect," she murmured to herself, rolling up her sleeves with brisk efficiency. "Breakfast it is."

She was flipping the eggs onto the plates when movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye, you had emerged from the bedroom, looking like you had just woken up. And she flashed you a small smile as she gestured toward the spread before them.

"Morning," she chirped, voice bright despite the early hour. "Hope you don’t mind me raiding your kitchen. I figured you could use a meal after last night."

After placing a plate in front of you, she leaned forward to pick her purse from where she had left it on the counter, looking over her shoulder as she continued. "I didn’t know if you liked butter or jam on your toast," she admitted. "So I left it plain. But if you’ve got either, help yourself."

With everything said and done, she gave you a last smile and made her way to the door before you could answer. But suddenly she paused at the door. She didn't know if this was the right thing, but she didn't want things to end like this.

"Well," she said lightly as she adjusted her collar, "I should probably head out." Before adding with deliberate nonchalance, a hint of expectation in her voice. "Unless you were planning on offering me a ride? My place isn’t too far."