drunk fantasies ; one shot book

exposed (r. byrne)

prompt is in bold

Being in a secret relationship with a super-famous movie star that you  happened to work with wasn't the ideal situation. Sure, you'd cuddle and kiss a little, and stay at each other's place often, but you had to be cautious about everything.

Especially since you were in charge of the costuming for her new series and you spent quite some time with her and her co-stars in very close quarters on a daily basis.

None of that seemed to matter when you were in each other's arms on a sunny morning like this, though, cuddled up in your apartment. It was just you and Rose, savoring every moment you had with each other, heartbeats in sync.

"You know," you started, voice raspy with sleep, "we should probably get up."

"I don't want to, I wanna stay with you for a while," she replied.

"We're going to be late, Rose."

"I could honestly care less."

"You're the lead actress. I'm just costuming director, your job is less at stake than mine, honey."

"Fine, then, but you owe me cuddles."

"I always give you cuddles anyway, whether I owe you or not," you laughed lightly, pulling yourself out of bed, "Now, come on, so we can get going already."

You pulled on a shirt and jeans, with a denim jacket over it, "C'mon, Rose, I think you have some clothes here from last time. You can borrow a shirt from me, this one goes well with the jeans you have here."

"I like that shirt, yeah, I'll wear it," she said, starting to get dressed as well.

"I'm going to go make some coffee, do you want some?"

"Sure, I'll have some."

Heading to the kitchen, you started heating some water for the coffee, trying to place a tune stuck in your head. You whistled it softly, pouring the hot drink into two cups and bringing them back to your bedroom, where Rose was sitting on your bed thoughtfully.

"Penny for your thoughts, Miss Byrne?" you asked, handing her coffee over.

"Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you."

"Sure, take your pick."

"I want this one," she grinned as she pulled out a black hoodie that was much too big for both of you.

"Isn't that a little big for you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'll let the situation speak for itself," you replied.

Watching from the sidelines was always fun, especially when you knew exactly what was going to happen. Sure enough, she struggled for a good three minutes before asking for help, which you gave happily, putting the sweater in the right angle so that she could wriggle in easily.

"Wow, okay, I see what you mean now," she giggled, "This is huge. But I'm still wearing this to work."

"Just don't get the sweater paws too dirty, 'kay?"

"Of course I won't, what do you think I am, five?"

You ruffled her auburn hair gently, grinning, "That's not what I meant. The sleeves are waaay too big to be easy to handle, so all I'm saying is, please don't spill anything on it."

"I won't," she grinned back at you as she took a sip of her coffee, "Don't worry, I like it too much to be careless with it."

"Then, should we get going? We're going to be late."