ᴋʟᴜᴛᴢ | ʟʀʜ

𝟐. 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐎𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐒𝐢𝐫?

Dedicated to @lukesloverofmine - hope you like your Nina :) 

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Two Years Later

Rubbing her eyes until she saw weird shapes, Alina sat up in bed, looked at her clock that read 10:05, and rolled back over in bed. Not a moment after, quick footsteps stopped outside her door.

"I'm up!" Alina shouted croakily, praying they would believe her and allow her a few more minutes of sleep. It was Saturday, damn it!

"Really? Is that why your voice sounds like a cat falling off a cliff?"

"Nina, you know me too well! That's exactly why," Alina responded cheekily, covering her mouth quickly to swallow the sound of her yawn. The door quickly burst open, revealing her bold roommate, Nina. Alina remembered meeting her at freshman orientation and immediately being drawn to the witty, sarcastic girl.

Nina's tall stature came into view in Alina's light blue colored room. "You thought you could fool me, Wright?" Nina asked, a hand dramatically resting on her hip.

"Damn," Alina muttered, pushing her polka dot covers off of her. "But did you mean to use that pun there? 'You thought you could fool me, right?' or were you just calling me by my last name?" At twenty, Alina was in her second year of college at UCLA. She was still undecided, oscillating between a creative writing or psychology major. The brunette loved both dearly, but was prone to indecision like most, so she had no idea what she'd chose by the end of this year.

"The latter," Nina responded, rolling her eyes at her friend's evident stalling. Brushing her dark hair out of her bluish-green eyes, she eyed Alina sitting on her bed, looking like she had no plan in moving. "Get up! Your shift starts at 11:00."

"Yeah yeah," Alina huffed, reluctantly heaving herself out of her soft twin bed. Sharing an apartment with her two roommates had its ups and its downs. Alina could never sleep for as long as she wanted because Nina always made sure she got up before her shift at the restaurant, Ketchup's.

It's not like she chose to stay up late; Alina was an insomniac. She struggled since she was a kid to fall asleep— there were always things on her mind, stuff to stress about, people to worry about. In turn, she slept better in the early morning. There was just something about the night and the void of darkness it presented that brought out the worst thoughts.

On the upside, each roommate had their own room. They were small and modest, with just enough space for a small closet, a twin bed, and a desk, but that was all she needed in college.

After going to the bathroom, brushing her teeth, and washing up a bit, Alina shuffled into the tiny, two-burner and one oven kitchen they shared. Her other roommate sat at the counter, eating cheerios. He was casually scrolling through his phone; his soft curls were still tousled from his previous deep sleep.

Glancing up from his text messages when he heard her walk into the room, the Kiwi and Scottish boy grunted in a deep morning voice, "Nice PJs."

"Oh fuck off," Alina retorted, self-consciously looking down at her choice today. Navy cotton shorts with white stars on them and an old shirt she received from a camp she went to when she was fifteen or so. They are comfortable, sue me. "At least I don't sleep naked, Cal."

"Hey! It's every once and awhile. I get hot at night," Calum defended, placing his empty bowl in the sink.

"Ok, but you're not the only person who lives here. I rather not wake up again to see you walking around the apartment butt naked," Alina pointed out, genuinely teasing the boy in front of her. All her relationships thrived off of good banter.