>> “Sure I’m sure, it’ll be a mix of people from work and school, they’re alright but not… interesting I guess?”

That was both reassuring and disconcerting all at once. Typically when people tried to sell someone on a party, they made it out to have fun and interesting people to interact with. Zinnia was selling them short. Then again, Jack was an introvert anyways, so too much excitement would’ve been a turn-off for her.

>> “My costume’s done, I’m going as Gamora from this—if you wanted to come I reckon I could whip up a Groot costume in a day or so. Just think about it? Besides, if there was ever a party where people go nuts over how cool you look, it’d be a Halloween party.”

Jack watched to movie quietly, milling the possibilities over in her head. Being ostracized for your mutation versus being idolized were two different things. Jack wasn’t sure which she preferred more. On the one hand, being treated poorly was degrading, but receiving rave reviews just because you fit a costume well also felt a bit odd. The prawn simply couldn’t find the words to explain why.

“Len-nee sink a’out it,” Jack purred, watching as the leather-clad character rhythmically punted ratty creatures, to the sway of retro tunes through the opening credits, “I don’t want to sign-utt for sun-ting wiss-out knowing what I getting into.”

Jack admittedly didn’t know what a “Groot” costume would entail, and didn’t want to volunteer if it was overly flashy or risqué. She was to embarrassed to confess this outright, however.

Hyper-aware of how much space she was occupying beneath the quilt, and their proximity-without-touching, Jack tucked her feet closer to her body. It was probably just a casual thing, for normal ladies to share blankets with each other. The prawn had seen it all the time, at Chrysalis. Sloshed girl-friends helping each other to the restroom, draping themselves over one another. Maybe it was the same when they were sober? Who knew. The bashful giantess of a woman felt so uncertain in this situation, though. It was strange to have someone be so casually comfortable with her, despite still being relatively new acquaintances.

Zinn nodded at the promise of thinking about it. That was all she wanted. She snuggled down into the blanket and fixed her eyes on the screen, occasionally peeking over at her friend to see if she was enjoying it. When the scene with the racoon and his tree companion introduced them she whispered, somewhat unnecessarily,

“That’s Groot.”

Not that his dialogue could have convinced anyone of anything different. The movie passed without too many more whispers, although she pointed out Gomora when she took the screen too. She was taking mental notes about little details she hadn’t noticed on the other watches, like her hair which was tipped in a pinkish red, and the placement of her rings. The hair she would incorporate into her costume, the rings were less important, she would wear whatever she had in her jewellery box, or borrow some from her housemates, but she certainly wasn’t going to buy something specially to be worn once.

The movie was long, but seemed to be over quickly. Zinn shuffled out from under the blanket to make more popcorn and another round of cocoa. It had gotten cold out, and she hoped Steph was at her boyfriends, because it was getting late to be out otherwise. The kettle rumbled, a pleasant echo of the ever flowing traffic below. Once it had finished she served out the hot drinks and more popcorn, before sticking in the next disk she put her hands on, it was something light and fluffy and very Disney. Easy to chat over, or to fall asleep to.

“I shouldn’t be mean to the party people, they’re just trying to have a good time really. They just like to make out in a corner, and I like to dress up and do the haunted house and stuff.”

The inevitable awkwardness the following day after making out with your boss in a sexy squirrel outfit was not something she ever hoped to experience.

Jack chuckled at the appropriate times, particularly when this self-proclaimed “Starlord” had one of his silly quips. She laughed especially hard when the guards processing him didn’t recognize his name. Just like any night in the club, when some self-important man would snap back at her with a “Do you know who I am?! I’m ___ ___!” after having one too many drinks. And Jack, much like the confused guard, would say, “Who?”. It was too real.

When the tall tree-creature and raccoon showed-up, Zinnia clued Jack in.

>> “That’s Groot.”

Groot was drinking out of a water fixture. Jack grimaced, but gave a noncommittal, “Well, I’d ‘e tall e-nuss.”

This much was true. He stood head-and-shoulders over every other character.

He, likewise, had very little variety in the way of lines. His voice, like a creaking door, uttered, “I am Groot,” in response to every situation.

“Could ‘e a mess-od actor,” Jack remarked wryly. It would spare her the trouble of making conversation.

The prawn teetered on the fence about whether or not she’d be willing to play the part of the tree-man throughout the film. She tallied off the pros and cons of dressing as him for Halloween in her skull. As she watched, as the plot progressed, the prawn found herself pulling the blanket to her chest, along with her knees, enrapt with the film. It wasn’t until the near-end of the film, when Groot sacrificed himself to protect the others in the ragtag team, that Jack’s mind was made.

She withheld her decision until the end credits. And, in a soft, decisive tone, she remarked, “I wouldn’t nine-d ‘eing Groot.”

Zinnia clambered free of the blanket, and Jack remained bundled, spare a single arm, which reached to the far table to retrieve her phone. Just past midnight. There’d been later nights at the club. And, after whatever came next, she’d be more than fine with walking home. Zinnia seemed to be making more popcorn and cocoa, so they’d probably be hanging out for at least a little while more.

When Zinnia returned, Jack lightly accepted her mug with a quiet thanks. She pressed play and let the DVD roll.

>> “I shouldn’t be mean to the party people, they’re just trying to have a good time really. They just like to make out in a corner, and I like to dress up and do the haunted house and stuff.”

“Sounds like doze at duh nightclu’,” Jack said with shrug, “Nnn-naybe you can has a straight haunted house… shindig. Like… neat at your house, go to haunted house, cun back, hangout? Den e’ryone’s ha’y.”

Jack shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t a big fan of haunted houses—partially on principle, and partially because her first instinct often seemed to be to want to punch their attackers. Which, given that you paid to be frightened, was not a good move. Jack took a sip of her cocoa, feeling the warmth spread across her chest.

“T’anks for has-ing me o’er,” Jack murmured, for perhaps the fifth time that night, “It’s kinda cool to just hang-out wiss sun-one.”

She glanced over at Zinnia, the corners of her eyes pinching in a smile.

“I wouldn’t nine-s ‘eing Groot”

And thus, it was decided, they would go as Groot and Gomora, and it would be awesome. She shimmied back under the blankets, this time less careful not to touch her friend. It was important not to knock over the cocoa, but space seemed less important now they were a movie in. Jack’s solution was perfect. Just because she had to make an appearance didn’t mean that she had to stay the whole night and watch the drama unfold. That way the gossiping the next day would be news and not just a reiteration of what she had seen with her own eyes.

Her prawny friend smiled and she grinned back, it was nice to just hang out, no pressure to be anything except Zinn.

“You’re welcome anytime.”

And it was true, having a friend to chill out with was something she had been neglecting. Prioritising study so much meant that old frendships had fallen by the wayside. Not through anyone’s fault in particular, just through lack of interaction, or changing interests. Most of her highschool friends were settling down, getting married, having babies, and she was focussing on her career. It was a sore point with some of the jealous ones, and increasingly she found herself bored by stories of diaper fiascos. Perhaps one day that would change for her, but for now she had bigger things in mind that babies.

~~~

The couch was comfy, and with two bodies positively cozy. Who could blame them for eventually nodding off? The menu had been playing its intro music for an hour or two when they wound up curled together under the blanket. The couch was an oversized capital L, with plenty of space for stretching out. Zinnia had squirmed up under an outer arm, her head resting lightly on Jac’s second shoulder. The big friend’s sleepy breathing had kept her own breathing mostly in sync, not that she could ever tell when she stopped breathing.

>> “You’re welcome anytime.”

Jack smiled, taking another sip of cocoa and swallowing another “thank you” that had started rising in her throat. Already welcoming Jack back “anytime”, even before she’d met the roommates. Would they be as okay with her, Jack wondered? As chill?

The prawn felt the lull of impending sleep in her bones. A handful of popcorn and the rest of cocoa later, and Jack, too, felt her eyelids growing heavier. Shifting her weight, Jack laid her head on the armrest of the couch, curled-up into a tight ball on her half of the couch. She told herself the lies that many sleepy filmgoers had told themselves for decades prior—I’m just resting my eyes, I’m not really sleeping, I’m still listening.

And, eventually, the dark-quiet of sleep enfolded the prawn, and she dozed off altogether.

===

Subconsciously, the prawn had stretched out, over the course of a bit more than an hour. While her head had rooted itself onto the very same headrest that it had settled on, her legs and somehow managed to extend past Zinnia’s initial location. Now, Zinnia was sprawled across Jack’s chest, her head resting above a secondary arm. The corresponding primary arm was looped around the smaller mutant, massive hand settled unwittingly on Zinnia’s hip. The blanket was, for the most part, spread over them both, although Jack’s feet and lower legs poked-out on the end.

The prawn blinked the bleariness of sleep from her eyes, stirred from her sleep by the sound from the Main Menu of the DVD. This house didn’t smell like her house, and she wasn’t in her bed. Her first inclination was to sit mostly still, and look around surreptitiously. It only took a few moments for Jack to remember that this was Zinnia’s apartment.

Crap, I fell asleep!

She started to shift, contemplating making a hasty departure, but there was a dead weight slumped against her chest. Jack glanced down, trying to further regain her bearings. It was Zinnia. Apparently she’d elected Jack as honorary mattress, although there was plenty of good couch available. Sleepy!Jack had also seemed to approve, having draped a large arm around her.

Jack could feel the heat climbing into her face. Did “normal friends” cuddle like this, too?

For a few moments, Jack watched the smaller, sleeping mutant—it’d be honorable to wake Zinn and prompt her in the direction of her own bed. But, guiltily, Jack admitted that she liked being snuggled up like this.

…she wasn’t breathing. Jack’s own breath hitched when she noticed this, a rush of panic flooding her veins. Did she accidentally roll over Zinnia? Crush her? Was her arm heavier than she’d anticipated?

“Zinnia?” Jack inquired. And, when the other young woman didn’t respond, more urgently, “Zinn, wake utt! Zinnia!?”

The prawn had drawn into a half-sitting position, lightly shaking Zinnia’s shoulder and making concerned whines. Ya get invited to someone else’s house one night, and you end up killing them. Sleepy panic-brain didn’t think to call for help. It only knew to panic and fret.

“Zinnia!” Jack hissed, desperate.

It didn’t hurt, when she stopped respiring. Occasionally it woke her up as her body jolted her with a ‘don’t die!’ signal, but mostly she didn’t even notice. This was one of those times. She was dreaming, although the dream was nonsense; a mixture of sewing and work. The colours were vivid, the story was unintelligible. A worried voice permeated through, saying her name. It was like hearing a voice calling out over a crowd, and she searched for the caller in her dream. Almost as soon as she realised it was a dream she jerked awake, in the weird way of dreams.

“Zinnia!”

The hissing maw in her face was enough to startle the air back into her lungs with a gasp, and she said the first thing that popped into her mind.

“Was I dead?”

The feeling of her mouth said yes. The look on Jac’s face said yes. The fact that she could just stop breathing for minutes at a time didn’t make it any less startling to see. She took a few deep breaths and cleared her throat.

“Sorry. That’s what I get for not using my machine.”

She looked around, they were cuddled up together, her in Jac’s lap, Jac’s head hovering above her. She shimmied into a sitting position and rubbed her eyes. It was still dark. Or, as dark and New York City ever gets overnight. The snuggling was nice, but she needed a glass of water, and her machine. She squiggled out from under the blanket. It was chilly, so she made a bee-line for the machine, pulling the plug and grabbing the waterbottle from her bedside while she was there. She re-plugged the machine by the TV and squiggled back in under the blanket again. She debated going straight back to the snuggle, but only for an instant, she didn’t want to make her friend uncomfortable. Or, more uncomfortable that apparently dying in her arms had. She held back a chuckle. Well that was not how she intended to spend the night at all.

“Did I squish your arm? I apparently went for a bit of a sleep-crawl.”

No embarrassment here. She sipped her water one could say bashfuly.

Jack was shivering, by the time Zinnia had decided to jolt awake. Breaths shuddering in a way that usually precipitated nervous laughter or crying. Zinnia spasmed to life, and Jack felt herself scrambling back (to the best of her ability—with someone on her lap, it was more like “mutual flailing”).

>> “Was I dead?”

“Not breezing,” Jack rumbled affirmatively, “Scared. Sought I had… sought sun-ting… went wrong.”

A relieved eye rub chased away the widen-eyed look of surprise from the prawn’s face.

>> “Sorry. That’s what I get for not using my machine.”

“Na-chine?” Jack echoed. Zinnia got up, letting a draft of cold in as she went. The prawn followed her with her eyes, quiet and contemplative. Now that they had untangled themselves, Jack wondered if it would be best for her to leave, or if it was acceptable to stay in her own, cozy spot on the couch. While the room was dim with nighttime, Jack could see as clearly as day, though in grayscale. Zinnia slipped away, retrieving her water bottle and machine. As Zinnia made her way back, Jack adjusted herself, drawing her legs under her once again.

>> “Did I squish your arm? I apparently went for a bit of a sleep-crawl.”

A soft sipping filled the silence. Jack busied herself with stopping the repetitive home screen of the DVD, plunging the room into a blue light as the disc came to a halt. She didn’t know if she could shut the t.v. off with the DVD player remote, so she set the remote back down.

“No,” was the timid response back, a hushed laugh fringing Jack’s tone. She rapped her knuckles against the carapace of her chest, which gave a wooden resonance, “I’n really hard to squish. Don’t worry ‘out it.”

A contemplative silence punctuated Jack’s reassurance.

“Sur’ised you could e’en sleet like dat, honestly.”

The prawn had no delusions about how uncomfortable it must’ve been. Her tone remained humored, however. Just thinking about it made her face hot, and one of her primary hands had taken to awkwardly rubbing the back of her head. Jack tapped the screen of her phone into wakefulness. It was nearing half-past three.

“Is it okay iss I stay?” Jack murmured, “It’s really late.”

Jack had often walked home from the club at far later hours, but the fact of the matter was, she was too cozy to leave. Somewhat selfishly, the prawn wondered if they'd go back to cuddling. But she was too bashful to ask.

“Sur’ised you could e’en sleet like dat, honestly.”

Now that she mentioned it, Zinn did feel like she may have an imprint of her friend’s chest on her face. Still, it was more comfortable than sleeping face-down on a table, which she had been known to do. Plus it had the added benefit of being cozy. Her knees had let her know that that was not the current situation of her own bed. She was reluctant to return to it now that she was back under the couch blanket.

The bigger mutant asked to stay, and Zinn flicked the breathing machine on, the noise was barely audible over the streetnoise, but if someone was listening closely they could hear the hiss of air blowing through the tube. If someone was close, say, cuddling, they could probably hear it. It didn’t bother her now, but she was used to it.

“If my machine doesn’t annoy you, stay as long as you like. I warn you ahead of time though, my breakfast skills extend as far as toast and no further.”

It was safer that way. Zinn didn’t think that her friend suffered from the same risks she did walking alone after dark, but there were groups who specifically targeted visible mutants and they tended to travel in packs. Better not to risk it. Plus, cozy. She shimmied a little closer. The mask covered the lower half of her face somewhat and made her voice sound a little distant, but it was clear to show her smile, and her eyes had a cheeky glint.

“Since you’re hard to squish can I steal your warmth again?”

Sleepy Zinn had no shame. Sleepy Zinn was all for snuggling back in and going back to sleep. She had forgotten the benefits of sharing a bed, or in this case, couch. Fall was a good time to be reminded. If her friend had no complaints she would crawl up to her previous position and be gone in an instant (one of the benefits of sleep apnea being she could fall back to sleep straight away), while if she said no Zinn would snuggle in under the blanket and cuddle one of the many cushions within reach.

>> “If my machine doesn’t annoy you, stay as long as you like. I warn you ahead of time though, my breakfast skills extend as far as toast and no further.”

"I can nake 'reak-sast," Jack offered noncommitally, yawning. The addition of the whirring machine to the fray of New York's typical sounds was nothing, to Jack's heightened hearing. If anything, it added grey noise to the frey. And the prawn was already sleepy.

The prawn wriggled back under the blanket, careful not to accidentally nudge Zinnia with her feet. Why, Jack wondered, was Zinnia still sleeping out here when she had a perfectly good bed? Selfishly, Jack left the inquiry unspoken. Begrudgingly, Jack admitted to herself that she didn't want the young woman to leave. It was the first time in a very long time that the iridescent mutant had been on the receiving end of such casual affection.

>> “Since you’re hard to squish can I steal your warmth again?”

Jack could feel the heat climbing back into her face. Shyly, the prawn nodded. Then she realized that Zinnia likely couldn't see her.

"Sure," was the rumbled response, which creaked out of her mouth hesitantly. The prawn adjusted a bit, reaching for one of the decorative pillows underneath her, "Just... use 'illow sore head. Your ss-ace looks like duh noon."

After passing Zinnia the pillow, the prawn laid down once again, allowing the young woman to settle wherever she so chose. Jack's nerves made her tense and immobile. Now that the cuddle was a conscious decision for both parties, the prawn wasn't sure what was an acceptable gesture, and what was not. Not that she wasn't planning anything ludicrous, heavens no. No, Jack was hung-up on innocent details, like where to set her hand, and if it'd be weird to rub Zinnia's back. Pansy stuff.

Zinnia dozed off within minutes, and the prawn decided that simply resting her hand on the small of Zinnia's back was permissible and un-invasive enough. She stayed up a while longer, lavender eyes swimming around the room before always returning to Zinnia. She looked so small, especially when they were this close to each other. With her head tucked just beneath Jack's, Zinnia's feet barely reached the last segment of Jack's legs. Jack's hand occupied most of the small of Zinnia's back.

The prawn yawned, and allowed her eyes to close. Eventually, she surrendered to sleep, the tension leaving her body. The last inkling of thoughts in Jack's mind was the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, those roommates wouldn't catch her and Zinnia here. 

“I can nake ‘reak-sast”. Excellent. And she was allowed to stay out on the cozy cozy couch instead of going back to the cold bed. The pillow addition was a wise choice, and in moments Zinn was peacefully sleeping. The machine hissed quietly in the background, puffing air on Zinnia’s sleeping face, keeping her breathing. She had noticed on the nights she wore it she tended to wake up breathing in and out the same types of air that she fell asleep breathing, while on the nights she didn’t wear it it was 50/50.

~~~

It was a little past morning when Abbey arrived home from work all bleary eyed and crumpled from the subway. The keys in the door made the slightest jingle and Zinnia’s eyes fluttered open to meet those of her housemate, who was staring at her. It was not unheard of for any of them to sleep on the couch, fall asleep in front of a movie, or after a particularly intense study session. The firmness beneath her took a moment for her sleepy mind to place, and by that stage Abbey had closed the door with a smirk.

“Nothing came of the speeddate huh?”

Zinnia was negotiating CPAP pipes and her uncooperative limbs, coupled with being tightly enclosed in shiny shell limbs. It was less than successful, so she lay still and blinked at Abbey who snorted and made her way to the fridge to grab something to eat (a cheese stick?) Zinn couldn’t see properly from where she was, then into her room.

“That’s not what this is.”

But it sort of was. Sleepy Zinn may have no shame, but awake Zinn had plenty, mostly for Jac meeting her housemate in a sudden and unplanned way. A little for herself because now she would have to live with the ribbing.

Jack did not stir when the key slid into the lock. The warm lull of sleep made her even less willing to open her eyes. In the back of her mind, she heard the door open and close. Her sleepy brain wrote it off as a trick of her mind, though.

>> “Nothing came of the speeddate huh?”

That wasn't Zinnia's voice-- probably a dream, then.

It wasn't until Zinnia replied that Jack began to blink the sleepiness out of her eyes.

>> “That’s not what this is.”

The prawn pried her eyes open, her hand shifting on Zinnia's back as she awoke.

"Hrrrm," Jack hummed, looking towards Zinnia, first. She'd stayed. A contented and groggy look crossed Jack's expression. It had all be real. How unbelievable.

The clattering of someone rifling through a refridgerator snagged the prawn's attention, and Jack's head snapped towards the direction of the sound, her antennae flattening against her skull. Her expression was one that had often been seen of a deer in the headlights. A wild, wide-eyed look of alarm.

Jack breathed a quiet, nervous hiss, wriggling beneath Zinnia as she grabbed another accent pillow and hid her mouth behind it.

"T'ings cool?" Jack whispered to the young woman, "Dey okay wiss nyu-ties like nee?"

The prawn shivered, blatantly on-edge. Now that Jack had moved her arms aside, Zinnia was free to rise at her liesure. Jack was shifting her weight, though, drawing herself into a more protected seating position. She didn't want to be splayed-out the way she was around a stranger.

Her friend tried to hide her face behind a pillow and Zinnia stifled a sleepy giggle. It was almost a situation of if I can’t see you, you can’t see me. She rumbled about them being cool and Zinn shuffled into sitting, pulling the blanket up about her chin, without exposing her friend’s legs too much. She pulled the mask off her face and flicked the machine off, then yawned and stretched.

“Yaaaawwwn they’re ok. Steph might squeak, but she squeaked at me when she first saw me, ‘cause of my colour. She’s just surprised at everything. They aren’t muties, as far as I know, but they’re pro equal rights enough to not be jerks.”

She wasn’t sure she could have lived with anyone anti-mutant. Too awkward and made for too many opportunities to fight. They had been cool with her assortment of girl and boyfriends when she had been dabbling in the dating scene too, although they loved to tease her about them.

Her friend seemed on edge though, and she patted her arm reassuringly. She was still clothed, as was her friend, so if it was easier for her to escape and be introduced properly at a later stage they were only a jacket away from ready.

“Would you prefer to eat breakfast elsewhere?”

There was a bagel shop just a few doors down. This was New York, there was always a bagel shop just a few doors down. This was a good one though. She would need to collect a few things at some stage for the costume; namely brown paint and foam floor tiles. Zombie-like she shuffled to the kettle. Did she need coffee to be awake enough to go and buy coffee? Why yes, yes she did. While waiting for the water to boil she rolled her neck and shoulders and glanced at her friend, for all that she had slept on the couch and on her shelly friend she had slept quite well, and felt well rested. Uncaffinated, so a little hazy, but rested all the same.

“Did you sleep ok?”

>> “Yaaaawwwn they’re ok. Steph might squeak, but she squeaked at me when she first saw me, ‘cause of my colour. She’s just surprised at everything. They aren’t muties, as far as I know, but they’re pro equal rights enough to not be jerks.”

As long as they didn't start hurling anti-mutant slurs or freak-out at the "monster" on the couch, then Jack wouldn't panic too much. Her heart was still hammering in her chest, though, and the pupils of her lavender eyes had constricted to two thin slits. She hugged the pillow to her chest, the top of her head the only exposed area above the pillow, as she listened closely to the noises of the other roommate's endeavors.

Jack merely nodded in reply. Zinnia patted Jack's arm, and the prawn felt an inkling to scoot closer. She did, just a smidgen, but otherwise remained behind her pillow.

>> “Would you prefer to eat breakfast elsewhere?”

Jack's eyes slid towards the kitchen, and then back towards Zinnia, watering the question down to its implications-- do you want to go somewhere else?

The obvious answer was "Yes", but the prawn didn't want to be rude to the roommate... especially if she wasn't actually that horrible.

"Iss you want to," Jack replied noncommittally, "What do you seel like has-ing?"

Her usually-booming voice had been dialed down to murmurs now, for Jack was bashful in the presence of an unfamiliar person. Zinnia seemed to have an easy enough time understanding Jack's impediment, and didn't seem to pass judgement on Jack for it... but Jack wasn't as comfortable with speaking around strangers.

Zinnia left for the kitchen, leaving the prawn to fend for herself. Jack would have followed her, but the kitchen was so far, and the other woman was there. Thus, Jack remained planted on the couch.

>> “Did you sleep ok?”

The prawn could feel the warmth seeping into her face again, her eyes dropping to her lap. Jack had slept very well, not waking once in the night. She'd been so comfortable, so at ease. Jack was usually a fitful sleeper, on her own-- taking ages to doze off, and once asleep, fidgetting about. But with Zinnia, she had stayed relatively still throughout the night, without waking up once. It had been bliss.

"Yeah," the prawn rumbled. A shy laugh escaped her, "I t'ink I was quite tired. Sle't like duh dead."

Jack itched at the exposed flesh between her her jaw and the plates on the back of her neck, yawning in an attempt to wake herself more.

"What 'out you?" she said with a smile, "Not too un-con-stor-ble?"

Jack watched as her friend shuffled around the kitchen, preparing what Jack assumed to be coffee. A regular at the cafe by their gym, and making coffee at home, right now? She was beginning to wonder if Zinnia had something of an addiction.

Abbey gathered a few more food items then wandered off to her room, nightshift would do that to a person. Zinn wasn’t even certain that she would remember running into them here when she woke up. There were nights she wasn’t certain how she navigated the subway and walk home after a long nightshift. In addition to making Jac more comfortable, relocating for breakfast would be nice to Abbey, give her a chance to fall asleep in a quiet(ish) house. It should also mean they skipped meeting Steph for now. One surprise housemate seemed to have rattled Jac enough, two in one morning was just mean.

“I’m down for a cream-cheese bagel, and a coffee, definitely a coffee.”

The fact that she was clutching one, nay, sipping one right now seemed to escape her. Mmmm, coffee. This was instant, and made at home, and therefore didn’t count. She sipped leisurely, letting the caffeine slowly bring her back to the land of the living. As it did the memories of the night before filtered through, like flavour from a tea-bag, and she hid her face in her mug. She hadn’t meant to come on so strong. This was her friend, and she’d crawled all over her just because she didn’t want to go back to a cold bed. What a sook.

She hadn’t impacted too much on her friend’s sleep by the sound of things, and she wondered if she remembered the early morning shuffle for the machine. She could feel her ears deepening in colour as she sipped. Sleepy Zinn might have no shame, but Wakey Zinn had spades.

“No, I was pretty comfortable actually. Sorry if I encroached on your personal space… I get a little crazy when I’m asleep.”

It was why she tried not to fall asleep at work, and if she had to between back-to-back shifts, she would squirrel away in some staffroom and sleep in a chair. Without her machine the quality of sleep was less enough that adding a chair into the mix didn’t change too much. Idly she wondered if she sleep-walked, but surely someone would have said something by now.

She scooped her jacket off the back of one of the chairs and shrugged it on.

“C’mon, lets get bagels, and the ingredients for your costume.”

The prawn followed the roommate with her eyes, as the roommate retreated to her bedroom. Jack understood well, how such late nights could induce a zombie-like shamble.

>> “I’m down for a cream-cheese bagel, and a coffee, definitely a coffee.”

Jack nodded her head, trying not to seem too enthusiastic about this decision. It would be a lie to say that she was not relieved.

"Dat sounds good to nee, too," Jack agreed. The bagel, anyways. She wasn't a coffee drinker. She arched a plated brow at Zinnia, though, in response to the announcement that she was getting another coffee. Jack unfolded herself from the couch, smoothing her tank top down with the palms of her hand, and adjusting her cargo shorts. Luckily, since she wasn't fleshy, there were no imprints in skin to reconcile-- only some minor adjustments to attend to.

>> “No, I was pretty comfortable actually. Sorry if I encroached on your personal space… I get a little crazy when I’m asleep.”

"It's all good," Jack countered, a little too eagerly. There was supposed to be some sort of follow-up statement, but it died before leaving her mouth. Zinnia appeared to be writing it off as being powerless to her sleepy instincts, which would suggest that it wasn't supposed to mean anything. So it'd be kind-of creepy to put too much emotional stock into the situation.

Jack retrieved her scarf, looping it around her neck, and over her mouth.

"Nice to change sings up," the prawn stipulated. As in, nice to sleep with someone else, as opposed to the typical sleeping alone. She'd grab the hoodie and messenger bag on the way out the door.

>> “C’mon, lets get bagels, and the ingredients for your costume.”

The prawn nodded, and followed Zinnia to the foyer, wriggling into her hoodie and retrieving her messenger bag as they went.