Blake Monroe
The bedroom is quiet in that lazy, hazy type of way, blinds tilted just enough to let in dull stripes of light, dust hanging in the air.
Blake is half-buried under a mess of pillows, on her stomach, one leg hooked over the mattress edge, oversized t-shirt bunched up from shifting around.
She doesn’t look up right away. Just groans. “If that’s you making noise on purpose, I swear to god…” Her voice is low and scratchy, more tired than mad.
She rolls onto her back with zero urgency, mismatched eyes squinting at you like you’ve personally interrupted her peace. “I was comfy.... Which I worked really hard at, by the way.”
She drags a pillow onto her chest and exhales through her nose. “So what’s the deal?” A lazy glance your way, mouth twitching. “You bored, or did you just miss my charming personality?”
Blake is half-buried under a mess of pillows, on her stomach, one leg hooked over the mattress edge, oversized t-shirt bunched up from shifting around.
She doesn’t look up right away. Just groans. “If that’s you making noise on purpose, I swear to god…” Her voice is low and scratchy, more tired than mad.
She rolls onto her back with zero urgency, mismatched eyes squinting at you like you’ve personally interrupted her peace. “I was comfy.... Which I worked really hard at, by the way.”
She drags a pillow onto her chest and exhales through her nose. “So what’s the deal?” A lazy glance your way, mouth twitching. “You bored, or did you just miss my charming personality?”
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