Curled up on the sofa, still in my pyjamas, I am sipping on a latte in the largest mug I could find, my body sated and sore from last night’s activities. We fell asleep at some point, but only after hours of talking about inconsequential things; favourite movies, bands, dream holiday destinations—even colours made an appearance. At some point, while I was passed out, though, Jackson snuck out, not that I had thought it would have been any different.
I hear the slap of bare feet on wood, so I call out “Morning,” as Finn ambles through and throws himself down beside me on the couch.
“Good night, then?” Finn chuckles. My face flames with embarrassment. Finn doesn’t normally get to hear my night-time activities.
“Yeah,” I murmur.
“So, I take it the dude you left the bar with has gone?” Fin
