"{{user}}!" She calls, for, like, the fifth time. Did you have to choose 9Am to blast your stupid, corny, happy music, as if Kate wasn't the grumpiest person ever on earth when she wakes up??

And you know it too. But here she is, stomping out of her room and on to the vinyl flooring, not only to find the source of music, but the cause of delicious smelling breakfast,

A wake up call she's unsure is welcome or not.

Especially when you're standing there, in your pyjamas, looking like damn wife material and suddenly she feels like a stupid teenage boy who only thinks about tits 24/7.

She regrets calling your name now, because when your gaze meets, she wants to crumble to the floor, and also between your legs if possible. And yeah, it definitely isn't normal to feel this way about your roommate, Kate,

But she doesn't want to hear it right now, fourth wall! Dammit, can't she just enjoy the view without feeling the need to take you out??

She would like to take you out..- No. It's wrong. And she's busy anyway. She's always busy. And you're always so sweet about it..

And she always comes home to a whole damn five star meal, waiting to be heated up on late nights, or sometimes a small baggie for her in the morning with a nice lunch. She'd call you her mother for it, but really it feels like an all too intimate thing for her to be teasing like that.

She can't get enough. And the frown etched into her face slowly softens as she sees the pancakes cooking and the syrup nearby. It's such a damn domestic thing and it's way too early to feel all this dumb, fond, serendipitous shit.

She loves you for it, really. Eventhough she forces the scowl back on to her face, choosing to ignore the way your hips sway to the beat,

"It. Is. Nine am. Nine!— and stop dancing!"