RomCom Cliché

Chapter Six

Rebecca woke early to an apartment that was all wrong. 

The early morning sunlight filtered in through slatted blinds instead of stained glass windows, there was noisy traffic outside instead of the peaceful quiet of the wealthy area of the foothills, and the sheets were soft with use, pilled cotton smelling of a detergent that wasn't hers as the mattress that wasn't hers groaned beneath her shifting weight.

Sitting up, Rebecca ran a hand through her hair and frowned as she looked around Freen's bedroom. She was wearing a borrowed National City Sharks t-shirt and felt confused as she glanced over at Freen, fast asleep on the other side of the bed. 

They'd stayed up so late talking - actually talking - that Freen had somewhat apprehensively invited her to stay the night, but the confusing part was that all they'd done was sleep, and Rebecca didn't sleep at other people's places. 

There was the odd occasion of crashing at her friend's homes after a drunken night out, but not the people she was potentially dating.

It left her feeling a little off , trying not to read too much into it as she picked her phone up on the nightstand and looked at the time. 

Seven-twenty. 

She had work to do, prep for a court case and witnesses to speak with, but Rebecca found herself glad for the momentary reprieve of ordinary life as she glanced around the bedroom. 

A hamper full of laundry but not quite overflowing, books on psychosomatic illnesses and family hierarchies on the crowded nightstand, a dresser with candles and framed photos and pens and folders. It was a comfortable clutter like the rest of Freen's apartment and she was enthralled by it all.

"Morning," Freen grumbled as she roused herself a few minutes later, while Rebecca answered a few emails and sent a snarky reply to a text from Milk beside her.

Locking her phone, Rebecca gave her a small smile. "Good morning. How'd you sleep?"

Freen snorted, rubbing at her eyes and blinking owlishly, "I didn't know you were such a bed hog. I guess your bed is a lot bigger than mine."

Rebecca made a spluttered sound of protest, a flicker of surprised amusement crossing her face as she nudged Freen's arm. "I am not."

"You are," Freen insisted, brown eyes creasing at the corners as she fumbled for her glasses. "It's fine though, as long as you don't snore."

Rolling her eyes, Rebecca shook her head and smiled, throwing back the covers and climbing out of bed. Freen followed suit, rumpling her messy hair as she raised her eyebrows suggestively. "Coffee?"

"Oh," Rebecca murmured, hesitating. "If that's okay."

Freen paused and cocked her head to the side. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Gesturing vaguely, Rebecca let out a strained laugh. "You know..."

Letting out a quick laugh, Freen pulled a pair of sweatpants on and rounded the end of the unmade bed, cupping Rebecca's chin and giving her a small smile.

"I can still make you a cup of coffee."

Nodding, Rebecca watched her leave and glanced back over at the bed, lingering a moment to straighten out the sheets and pillows before she trailed after Freen. In her small kitchen, Rebecca leaned against the counters and watched as Freen moved around, two mismatched mugs on the counter.

"Sorry, I don't have a fancy machine like you do. I have to do it the archaic way," she wryly said, scooping ground coffee out of a tin and spooning it into cups.