sunday brunch with skylar.
Hung over, hair sticking up in all sorts of unacceptable direction, pillow marks still relatively visible on his face, Reid managed to drag himself out of bed and into respectable(ish) clothes, stopping by the bathroom just long enough to brush his teeth and splash some water on his face, attempting to rub away the red from his eyes (nevermind the hair, he'd deal with that one he had some grease in his stomach). He was as ready to go as he'd ever be.
Because it was Sunday. And Sunday meant brunch with Skylar. Sunday had always meant brunch with Skylar, ever since they had graduated and bunked in together, celebrating their first set of keys over pancakes and bacon and eggs benedict. No hangover, walk of shame, sleepless night, or working weekend was a good enough excuse to miss Sunday brunch.
Right on time, 11am on the dot, Reid walked out of his room to find Skylar waiting for him by the door, looking entirely more put together than he did (what had he even done last night, blood hell). But, well, they'd each had their off days. "Looking fantastic and ready to go, I assume?"
Because it was Sunday. And Sunday meant brunch with Skylar. Sunday had always meant brunch with Skylar, ever since they had graduated and bunked in together, celebrating their first set of keys over pancakes and bacon and eggs benedict. No hangover, walk of shame, sleepless night, or working weekend was a good enough excuse to miss Sunday brunch.
Right on time, 11am on the dot, Reid walked out of his room to find Skylar waiting for him by the door, looking entirely more put together than he did (what had he even done last night, blood hell). But, well, they'd each had their off days. "Looking fantastic and ready to go, I assume?"