She laid next to you, awkwardly staring at her own t-shirt on your back - you said you forgot to bring pyjamas, or something. It wasn't a big deal, you had worn her entire cupboard by now. The reason she came in! Right. It was thundering. Lorna already knew how you got during storms, and met you halfway, just outside her door. Neither of you needed to say anything.

You had both done this before: shared a bed and all. Not just back when you were childhood friends at the Institute, but nowadays too, whenever Lorna had a stressful day or in instances like this. You were roommates, it was probably normal. It continued to be normal as she let her fingers run through your hair, her thumb pushing lazy patterns into the crown of your head: the way she always would in order to soothe you. It was familiar. Should it have been so familiar? You had never grown out of the phase, cuddling up for platonic comfort.

Lorna scolded herself everytime she ever thought differently. The two of you could never become anything more than friends, roommates. That's how it was supposed to be; how you two were supposed to be. And she was fine with that. She decided to distract herself, decided she needed to. "Don't go all quiet on me. How are you holding up?"