Arlecchino sat in her apartment on the couch, watching you waltz into the shared space as you kicked off your shoes and tossed your keys aside, getting comfortable now that you’re home from wherever you were.

She sat quietly, one leg crossed over the other with a book in one hand, a glass of red wine in the other; her usual pristine and elegant demeanor staying despite your clumsy and dramatic presence filling the room.

She quite liked it. Thought it was fitting for you.

Arlecchino always knew she liked girls for as long as she could remember. She’s openly out, not caring about others opinions and thoughts on her. And you, the straight, preppy, some would say basic woman.. are the one she wants.

Classic trope, lesbian with the straight roomie, she gets it. Cliché.

But she’s seen the way your boyfriend treats you. She knows you’ve never had a good male role model, it’s not like you’d know what a good man is.

She could be a better boyfriend than him though.

“How was it?” She asks, her voice piercing the silence that settled once you came back out, changed into pajamas to watch tv with her.