IDOL || 𝐦. 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

⁰¹³ 5:30

The sun comes up and I see you here
I should get up but baby I just don't care. . .

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You come into consciousness as the blaring of an unfamiliar alarm echoes in your ears, your heart beating rapidly from the systematic sound. Your eyes reluctantly open, still heavy from sleep, blinking once, then twice. Slowly, your vision begins to focus and you realise you were in a bedroom. Whose? You weren't so sure.

You then register a weight on your side mumble a hoarse "sorry," before it begins to shift so that it leans over your body to stop said alarm.

In your disoriented state, you mumble an incoherent response before you snuggle deep into the sheets with the intent to fall back asleep. Since when were your sheets this comfortable? And your pillows too? Don't even get yourself started on the mattress.

Wait. Memories of last night came rushing into the forefront of your mind. It was as if mental floodgates had been opened, allowing the flow of information that you had still yet to fully process. Snapping your eyes open, you felt as if you had become acutely aware of everything. How the sheets felt on your skin, the cool temperature of the room, and how the clothes on your body weren't tailored to your fit.

Sitting up, your consciousness had completed filling you in on the events of your previous night. Here were the facts: Mikasa invited you for dinner, you slept with her, and then you... Slept with her – in the non-euphemistic sense, that is.

Amidst your drowsy revelation, it took some time for you to realise that the weight on your side had long disappeared. You hear the shuffling of curtains as light seeps into your eyes and illuminates the once-dim room.

Your eyes do a quick scan of the room: A contemporary painting on the wall, a lone plant that stood in the corner of her room, a lounge chair with a fur throw tossed over its backrest, a photo frame containing a photo of Mikasa, Eren, and Armin from when they were younger, and more that your sleep-deprived brain had yet to process. The colour palette of her room, you note, consists of muted colours: whites, grays, blacks, and other neutral colours. Her room was simplistic, nothing out of the ordinary to note.

Turning your head to the right, you see Mikasa standing by a window. Your eyes land on her first, and then the sky. In-between night and day, blues, purples, and pinks fought for space in the atmospheric canvas as the stars slowly faded away. The silhouette of the city seemed so small from Mikasa's apartment view when in reality, you were the small one in comparison.

"Slept well?" Mikasa's sleep-ridden voice asks. Her voice had a husk to it, like the comforting sound of footprints on gravel. Her arms were stretched high above her head, and her shirt lifted ever so slightly to expose her toned midriff.

You wipe the sleep away from your eyes. "Yeah," you respond, repressing a yawn.

"Good, good." She muses. "Sorry about the alarm, I forgot to change it last night..."

You flick your eyes to the clock on her bedside table. 5:34 AM it read. This was way earlier than your usual wake-up time, especially when your starting time was eight-thirty.

"S'okay," you slur as you fought hard to keep yourself awake. "Do you usually wake up this early?"

Suddenly, you felt a dip at the base of the bed around where your feet would be. "Mostly, yeah. Sometimes earlier," Mikasa responds as she sat down.

You nod your head in understanding. Sounds brutal, especially when you thought your eight-thirty start was bad enough.

The closer she was to you, however, the closer you were able to observe her bedhead. It was messy for lack of a better word, with pieces of raven hair sticking out in an incredibly dishevelled manner. A stark contrast to the effortless Mikasa you were used to seeing bringing an amused smile to your lips.