Golden Girl | Chaelisa

8

It's morning. Lisa can tell by the sunlight bathing over her face, distinctly different than the warmth behind her. The light fights to leak in through her closed eyelids, but she keeps them shut, content with her plan to stay in bed with Roseanne for as long as physically possible.

Roseanne is impossibly comfortable and snuggly, her chest molded to Lisa's back, one arm encircling Lisa's waist, and one long leg slung over Lisa's hip. It's blissful.

Lisa lies awake for an hour or more, pretending to be asleep. She listens to the steady thump of Roseanne's heart instead of her own thoughts. Lisa knows that if she gets out of bed, she'll inevitably have to face the world and every bad thing in it. Pretending to be asleep is easier. Pretending is always easier, in her experience. So, she keeps her eyes firmly shut and fades away, into a life where Taehyung is alive, she didn't rudely tell off Wade at a funeral, and her only task today is to cuddle with Roseanne Park.

(It's a pretty good task.)

She manages to catch another few, lazy minutes of not-sleep, before Roseanne begins to stir awake.

"Lisa?" Roseanne makes a noise, something muffled and soft that could be a grumble or a yawn. "Are you up yet?"

Lisa should probably respond, but instead she sticks to her plan. She slows her breathing a bit and forces her body to sag, as pliant and slack as a bag of potatoes in Roseanne's arms.

It works.

Roseanne says nothing more. Lisa feels something soft and damp against the nape of her neck (her stomach jolts oddly—she is pretty sure Roseanne just kissed her), followed by a gentle squeeze to her arms, and then Roseanne is silently slipping out of the bed. The mattress creaks as it dips, just barely, like Roseanne is trying her best not to make noise on her way out. Lisa stays completely still until she hears the dull thud of the bedroom door closing.

Once she is sure she's alone, Lisa rolls onto her back and faces the ceiling. One side of the bed is still warm. She brushes her palm over it, feels the quickly fading heat of Roseanne's body.

Eventually the lingering spot of warmth goes cold and Lisa is forced to entertain herself. She uses her fingertips to tap out a random beat on Roseanne's headboard. She hums a song, too. She realizes halfway through this that she hasn't drummed for what feels like years. She hasn't painted, either. It's only now that Lisa realizes how restless she really feels, as if her bones will jump right out of her skin if she doesn't do something soon.

Roseanne comes back in a second later, smelling like fruity soap and drying her damp hair with a towel. She smiles when she sees Lisa, and Lisa can't help but mirror her expression.

"Hey." Roseanne climbs up on the bed, resting on her knees. Her skin is faintly pink, reddened by the hot water, and Lisa has trouble deciding if she wants to paint or kiss her.

Both?

Both.

Lisa ends up doing neither. "Hey. How was your shower?"

"Um, good." Roseanne replies, her nose scrunching up slightly at Lisa's question. Thankfully, Roseanne seems to find it more endearing than weird. "I think Somi is making breakfast. Do you want to come eat with us?"

"Sure." Lisa sits up. She stretches her arms high above her head, muscles loosening.

One meal shouldn't be too bad, even if it's with Somi. Food is food. At least Roseanne will be there.

Lisa looks down at her clothes. Her legs itch a little from sleeping in jeans and her skin has an odd, barely-damp quality that is probably due to spending the night next to someone else's body heat.