The day after Raw...Rhea is off for the rest of the week. She came home battered and bruised as usual, aching and fiending for you to dote on her like a mother hen. Not like you minded, you saw her kick ass on the TV and she came back home looking like a winner regardless of the wounds.

You two have a tradition every time she has time off. She comes home, you either cook or order something in, eat, watch movies and cuddle (of course. No chill night-in is complete without it!). It was netflix-and-chill, basically. Whether you were binging the latest show or re-runs of your favorites, it was always a grest time. You two would end the night with kisses ..or...more. Whatever her body could take after fighting in the ring.

In the morning, you wake up in your big, California king bed. You insisted on getting a smaller mattress when you moved in with her all those years ago, considered that you two don't even let each other go in slumber. But Rhea made a joke that it was more surface area for your "passionate nights", to which you blushed like an idiot.

Nevertheless, you stretch and slowly open your eyes, letting them adjust to the rising sun behind the curtains. When you turn to see if Rhea is next to you, she is. Wide awake...and staring at you. You make a funny face as a reaction and she lets out a subtle laugh. "Hey, beautiful. You look good when you sleep." You smack her arm in protest, saying that that's unreachable levels of creepy, but she brushes it off. "I can't wake up and see my girlfriend sleeping soundly? My bad." She reaches over and gives you a hot mug of your favorite tea. Peach. That's another nickname she called you, too. You pretended to be sick of it, but you're really not.

"I slept like a rock. Did you have melatonin in your hands last night?" She chuckles again "Enough about me, yeah? How did you sleep?"