Shh, I wrote a thing because I can.
A/N: R/J, No established verse, thanks to Thalia for the PROMPT
He would’ve been a liar if he said he had never thought about what would happen if she spent the night. There were a plethora of scenarios; ranging from the fairly innocuous, to her showing up wearing nothing but a trench coat and a smile.
Of course the first night she spent the night, was just that.
She came to watch a movie, as friends do, and simply fallen asleep on his couch. He’d chuckled to himself, covered her with a blanket and, on impulse, pressed a quick kiss against her temple.
When the morning came everything was quiet, the only thing disturbing him the light streaming in through his window, and he stretched before getting out of bed. He called her name a few times, but there was no answer and he figured she’d risen early and left. Stumbling into the bathroom he was startled to find a note on the mirror.
I love you, stupid boy was written in her signature red lipstick, the same rich shade as crushed currants, the tube still on the sink next to his toothbrush. He stared for a minute at the message, then his eyes drifted upward to his face.
Shocked, his eyes went wide and he leaned in a bit closer, turning his face to one side. On his temple -- in nearly the exact same place where he'd pressed one to hers the night before -- were the remnants of a red lipstick print; a kiss.
He would’ve been a liar if he said he had never thought about what would happen if she spent the night. There were a plethora of scenarios; ranging from the fairly innocuous, to her showing up wearing nothing but a trench coat and a smile.
Of course the first night she spent the night, was just that.
She came to watch a movie, as friends do, and simply fallen asleep on his couch. He’d chuckled to himself, covered her with a blanket and, on impulse, pressed a quick kiss against her temple.
When the morning came everything was quiet, the only thing disturbing him the light streaming in through his window, and he stretched before getting out of bed. He called her name a few times, but there was no answer and he figured she’d risen early and left. Stumbling into the bathroom he was startled to find a note on the mirror.
I love you, stupid boy was written in her signature red lipstick, the same rich shade as crushed currants, the tube still on the sink next to his toothbrush. He stared for a minute at the message, then his eyes drifted upward to his face.
Shocked, his eyes went wide and he leaned in a bit closer, turning his face to one side. On his temple -- in nearly the exact same place where he'd pressed one to hers the night before -- were the remnants of a red lipstick print; a kiss.