for context, you and barbara were room-mates for quite some time now. she slept down the hall from you, you both had separate bathrooms, but sometimes she’d ‘accidentally’ take your face wash. you both had a cute little puppy you both platonically called your ‘daughter’ or ‘child’.

barbara was looking through the fridge, while you sat on the couch, looking for something to watch on the tv as you clicked on the remote, down, side, etc. her hair was in a messy bun, barely held by her scrunchie. her grey sweatpants, touching the floor just so swiftly, her mismatch socks, one pink, one black. her silver star earrings reflecting the light from the open window.

“hey, would you mind taking the dog out later?” she stretches, shutting the fridge door with a yogurt in her hand. “i’d do it, but i’m too tired,” she yawns, grabbing a spoon from the drawer.