Work Text:
Google Calendar - Day View - [email protected]
April 17, 2025
Event
6:00 AM
7:00 AM hot pilates with dani
8:00 AM shower
9:00 AM
10:00 AM
11:00 AM lunch
12:00 PM gov exam 12-2
1:00 PM
2:00 PM
3:00 PM pick up dry cleaning
4:00 PM
5:00 PM yc +m dinner
6:00 PM
7:00 PM
8:00 PM shower
9:00 PM R&R Time!
10:00 PM
11:00 PM
Sophia was very good at compartmentalizing her spaces.
Of note, there were few things she did in her bedroom — cooking and eating were done in the kitchenette of her and Yoonchae’s shared apartment, studying was done at the library, pilates at the gym, game nights at Megan’s dorm, and so on. She could count the number of things she did in that room on one hand: sleep, shower, change clothes, put on or take off makeup. Maybe an occasional phone call or FaceTime if Yoonchae was deep in the trenches of her own room, and Sophia didn’t want to risk a call in the apartment’s living area to interrupt the other girl.
Regardless, the point was this: Sophia did very few things in her bed other than sleep. She had developed that habit to lock in for LSATs during sophomore year, and she did not intend on changing it, at least not until she graduated with honors and went to law school and needed a different type of work-life balance. She did not study there, she did not eat there, and she most definitely did not see it as a playground space for a threesome.
And yet here she was.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen this coming. She already knew it was coming. Lara had bought her a coffee earlier in the week to talk about boundaries, and Manon had texted her a reminder about it earlier this afternoon, after she’d finished her exam, and then she had already blocked off time in her Google Calendar for it as well. In fact, Lara had sent that calendar invitation to both her and Manon about it.
Sophia was aware, with an almost clinical clarity, that she was vastly less clothed than Manon at the moment. Manon had arrived just as Sophia was finishing her shower and had her to put on something “simple, easy to remove.” And now, Sophia was lying on her extended mattress in just a bralette and underwear, with sheets tangled around her legs, while Manon sat next to her, scrolling through her phone and making no move to undress herself. The difference in clothing should not have mattered, but it did, and not necessarily in a bad way. The imbalance lodged itself somewhere behind her sternum, making her feel unsteady in a way she could not immediately describe. She’d made a move to put on a T-shirt while waiting for the other girl to arrive, but Manon had advised against it.
“I was thinking we could get started first,” Manon had said as she’d put on some music.
Sophia felt woozy, which was not a sensation she trusted right now. It could have been nerves. It could have been the strange vulnerability of lying down while exposed and Manon not immediately on top of her, with their bodies pressed together. It could just as easily have been the fact that she had been awake since six in the morning — after all, it was Friday, but it had still been a weekday — and had not truly stopped moving since. This was the first time all day she had allowed herself to lie flat and take a breath, and her body seemed unsure what to do with the permission. For a few disoriented seconds, however, she registered the attention on her as pressure, as expectation, and then immediately resented herself for the thought. She was too tired to tell whether her pulse was picking up because something was about to happen or because she was finally still enough to feel how exhausted she was.
“Are you okay?” Manon’s voice cut through her thoughts.
“Yeah, I — yes.”
Sophia was trying to trace backward, to figure out what had actually made the night curve into this shape, and she found it difficult to pinpoint one specific reason for this. The last several weeks had blended together into a continuous state of demand. Classes required focus she had to force. Rehearsals stretched late. Being with Manon was good and intense, but at times certainly still new in a way that took energy she had not realized she was spending. Holidays, and then returning after holidays, had arrived with noise, family, and social obligation layered on top of everything else. Sophia had learned to keep going because stopping meant noticing how far behind she felt.
She had not made room to think carefully about anything extra. She had certainly not made room to think too deeply about sex. Not because the idea frightened her, nor that there was anything wrong with the sex that she was having (in fact, Manon left her very satisfied, if not a little too spoiled, most of the time), but because it just felt like one more variable introduced into an already overloaded system. What she had Manon had already done together had felt easy and intuitive and already mindblowingly good, and in a way that did not require postmortems or mental spreadsheets, so Sophia was quite content to let that be it.
If anything, that was perhaps part of why this was throwing her so badly now. She had grown used to the shape of things as they were, such as the fact that sex happened in Manon’s dorm, on Manon’s bed. That space had been sorted into her mental gallery of compartmentalized locations. It had been contained, predictable, and oddly reassuring.
Now, suddenly, the equation had changed. Not only was there the prospect of introducing another person into something she had barely finished mapping, but it was also happening here, in her room, on her bed, the one place she had carefully reserved for sleep and recovery and not much else. The cognitive dissonance alone was enough to make her head spin.
What Sophia did recall, however, was how Manon had first asked, weeks ago, “What are your thoughts on threesomes?” and at first, the question had short-circuited her completely. Sophia had felt her thoughts skid, as though someone had pulled the emergency brake without warning.
“I haven’t thought about that at all, but I don’t think I’d be all that interested,” she had said honestly. “I feel like I always hear about people using Tinder to find strangers to hook up with like that, but I just can’t see it, like… like, what if they have an STD?”
She had shuddered reflexively, the thought alone enough to make her recoil.
Manon hadn’t laughed or looked offended, which Sophia appreciated more than she could articulate in the moment. Instead, she had tilted her head slightly, thoughtful rather than defensive.
“So is it the idea itself,” Manon had asked carefully, “or is it more the idea of doing it with strangers?”
Sophia had opened her mouth, then closed it again, realizing she did not actually know the answer. “I don’t know,” she admitted after a beat. “Maybe just strangers? I’ve honestly never thought about threesomes in general. Like, ever.”
Manon had gone quiet then, not in a way that felt heavy, but in the way she did when she was genuinely thinking something through. Her gaze had drifted off somewhere unfocused, lips pressed together as if weighing possibilities rather than pushing an agenda.
After a moment, she had looked back at Sophia and asked, almost tentatively, “What if it was someone we know?”
That was when Sophia’s remaining patience snapped.
The question itself was not malicious, but it had landed at exactly the wrong time, in the middle of a day where she had already been stretched thin beyond what felt sustainable. She had shut the conversation down more sharply than she meant to, asking to talk about it another time, her tone clipped with exhaustion rather than anger.
Time had passed after that, though Sophia didn’t quite remember how much. It was on a later date, during a night that had softened around them, on in which Manon had fucked her six ways to Sunday as a part of a new “de-stressing” route Manon had insisted Sophia needed to try out, and they had ended up sprawled together on Manon’s bed, with Sophia lazying in the postcoital warmth and her defensiveness reduced, that Manon revisited the topic.
It made sense why Manon suggested whom she did.
Lara was unapologetically sex-positive, open about casual connections in a way that made it feel almost academic, and she treated touch like a default language rather than a special event. She was the most tactile person Sophia knew. Affection came easily to her, without any hierarchy or hesitation whatsoever. Lara was also touchy in ways Sophia knew most people were not. Lara was the type to hug Manon freely, press close to someone when she laughed, and, when drunk, had a habit of kissing Megan, Manon, and whoever else was closest’s cheek with theatrical enthusiasm. She flirted with everyone, probably had given Sophia more pickup lines than Sophia had ever even thought about, batting her eyelashes with a confidence that read more playful than pointed. Sophia understood, rationally, that this was simply who Lara was.
Lara was not predatory. She was not scheming. She would never deliberately cross a line.
Still, knowing that did not make the jealousy disappear.
The thought of sharing Manon with Lara unsettled her in a way she had not prepared for. Her mind, traitorous and vivid, supplied images she did not want; she could imagine it — imagine herself sitting to the side, watching Lara and Manon lean toward each other, watching them kiss the way she had gotten so used to doing with Manon. She did not like the feeling at all. She wanted to be the one closest to Manon, the one whose presence drew Manon’s attention without competition.
The realization irritated her. She did not like that jealousy had been waiting just beneath the surface, dormant but ready.
“Hey, you still with me?”
Sophia blinked. The room came back into focus in uneven pieces, like her eyes were lagging behind her body. She realized she had been staring at Manon without really seeing, her thoughts slowed to something thick and indistinct.
“Sorry,” she said, though she was not entirely sure what she was apologizing for. Speaking felt like reaching through water.
“What’re you thinking about?”
“Um,” Sophia blinked. “Just… this whole situation? I… I don’t really know.” It just registered to her at the moment that Manon had moved closer and had a hand on her thigh, rubbing circles into the pale skin, and it was really distracting. “I don’t really remember… it’s kind of hard to think right now.”
Manon shifted slightly, bringing herself fully into Sophia’s line of sight. Her expression was steady, searching. “That’s okay,” she said. “This is still okay, right? And you’ll tell me the moment you feel uncomfortable with anything? Or if you want to stop?” ”
“Mhm…” Sophia nodded, the movement small but certain. She was here. She felt anchored in her body even as her thoughts stayed hazy, distant. The sensation was oddly comforting, like she had set something heavy down and did not yet need to pick it back up.
“Use your words, love.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“If I want to stop.”
“Good girl,” Manon said, smiling now, concern ebbing out of her features. “So as I was saying: we could get started first.”
“Oh. So we’re not going to wait…?”
“I mean, if you want to,” Manon said softly, but Sophia didn’t miss the way the other girl’s fingers were moving up her thighs. “What do you want?”
“I…” The answer came easily, but it took her a moment for her voice to work again. “I just want you on me.”
Manon smiled at that and leaned in, unhurried, as if giving Sophia every chance to change her mind. Sophia didn’t. She tilted her head up, meeting her halfway.
When their lips met, the world narrowed immediately. The contact was soft and familiar, and still it made Sophia feel lightheaded, the way it always did, like the bed had dropped half an inch beneath her body. No matter how many times it happened, no matter where they were, kissing her girlfriend felt like this — like something essential had clicked into place.
Sophia melted into the kiss, her body yielding as Manon's lips moved against hers with that unhurried certainty. The familiarity of it wrapped around her like a warm current, pulling her under even as a quiet hesitation stirred in the back of her mind.
Sometimes, she hated that her body was so physically sensitive during sex, she thought dimly — she felt that it was too quick for her to unravel, and the ease of doing it so many times with a generous lover like Manon meant that sex sometimes felt like an addiction now, the way her pulse quickened at the slightest provocation, leaving her craving more even when she knew she shouldn't. Manon always seemed to sense it, to know exactly how to coax her into that squirmy, breathless state with just a few strategic presses of her mouth or the graze of her fingers. It was effortless for her, and that knowledge only deepened Sophia's moment of vulnerability.
But even after all these times, and the additional work necessary for Sophia to feel fully satisfied, Manon didn’t seem to mind though.
Ever the attentive, generous lover, Manon kissed Sophia’s jaw and then trailed lower, leaving feather-light brushes along the side of Sophia's neck, then down the column of her throat, each one sending tiny tremors through her skin. Her hands, meanwhile, continued their lazy exploration, tracing the curves of Sophia's breasts through the thin bralette, thumbs brushing over the soft fabric, in a rhythm that matched the slowing beat of their shared breaths. Sophia arched slightly, her body responding before her mind could catch up, a low heat building unbidden in her core. She hadn't even registered the full extent of how keyed up she was until moments before the surge hit — a sudden, lightning-sharp strike that radiated from her chest, with numbing waves of pleasure crashing over her, intense and unrelenting. Her entire body tensed as the release rippled through her, unexpected and all-consuming, and she hadn't even felt Manon's mouth venture past her ribs.
Manon pulled back slightly, her eyes widening in surprise as Sophia shuddered beneath her.
"Did you just…?" She blinked at Sophia, voice laced with a mix of awe and amusement, her hand stilling on Sophia's skin. “Just from your…?”
Sophia's cheeks burned, a deep flush spreading as she stammered, words tumbling out in a rush of self-consciousness. "I — I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, it just... happened," she whispered, her voice small and hazy, caught in that floaty subspace where apologies felt automatic, like she needed to explain away her own responsiveness.
“Why are you apologizing?” Manon's expression softened into something reverent. "That is the hottest thing I've ever seen," she breathed, leaning in closer, her breath warm against Sophia's ear.
"Can you do it again?"
Sophia opened her mouth to respond, but the words dissolved as Manon shifted upward, her lips descending once more onto the sensitive swell of Sophia's breast. She captured one nipple through the lace, sucking gently at first, then with more insistence, her teeth grazing just enough to send sparks racing across Sophia's nerves. The world funneled down to those two points of sensation, everything else blurring into irrelevance. Sophia's hands fisted in the sheets, a soft whine escaping her lips — wait, was that her? The sound was raw, almost theatrical, echoing in the quiet room like something from an adult scene she wouldn't admit to watching.
Manon's mouth stayed latched on one side, warm and insistent, while her left hand claimed the other breast, fingers teasing and squeezing with deliberate pressure, rolling the peak between them until Sophia's hips twitched involuntarily. Then, without warning, Manon's right hand slipped lower, parting Sophia's thighs with a firm nudge. Fingers found their way inside her, slick and sure, curling in a way that amplified every pull from above.
All of a sudden, however, Manon paused, her fingers still buried in Sophia, but now unmoving. Sophia's eyes fluttered open, frustration bubbling up in her chest. She was about to protest, words forming on her lips — why? — when Manon tilted her head, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Do you want to be on top?" Manon asked, her voice low and teasing, like she already knew the answer. She always did; she knew Sophia loved the faux control of riding her, grinding down to set the pace, chasing her own release on her terms — even if both of them knew that Manon was the one truly in charge.
Sophia nodded, breathless, her body still humming. They shifted together, Manon's fingers never fully withdrawing, just adjusting as Sophia swung her leg over, straddling Manon's hips. The movement pressed those fingers right against that sensitive spot inside her, and Sophia couldn’t fully stifle the gasp it produced, and instead, chose to simply ignore the way Manon's eyebrow arched in amusement. Every accidental jerk as they repositioned made her core clench and unclench around the intrusion, involuntary pulses that sent fresh sparks up her spine.
She vaguely remembered reaching up, pulling off her bra, and then gathering her hair and twisting it into a messy ponytail to keep it out of the way, but before she could fully settle, Manon's hands gripped her waist, pulling her down firmly. Two fingers were thrust deeper into her, pushing into her with a sudden fullness that made Sophia's entire body jerk forward, a sharp moan escaping her throat.
"That's it, take them," Manon murmured, her voice husky with command. "Ride my fingers like you own them, love, show me how much you need this — how wet you get just being on top."
Fuck, she loved it when Manon did the dirty talking.
Sophia started moving slowly, hips rolling in a blind chase for more pleasure, grinding down onto Manon's hand. The stretch burned sweetly, her walls fluttering around the digits as she lifted and dropped, setting a rhythm that built the heat anew. Manon's dirty words washed over her, fueling the fire.
"God, look at you — going at it already, you're so tight, can you feel it — ” Manon curled her fingers at the same time as she said this, and Sophia swore her entire body short-circuited at it — “you’re pulling me in, clenching, like you can't get enough. Keep going, yeah, just like that, love —"
She didn’t know how long she was in that position for, riding Manon’s fingers. Her girlfriend was being cruel about it, too, slowing down as Sophia felt herself clenching more as pleasure built, slowing to a stop before Sophia could fully hit the crest. Sophia’s eyes squeezed shut as her world narrowed to Manon's touch: those fingers pumping inside her, curling to hit that spot with every downward thrust; Manon's left hand gripping her left thigh, nails digging in just enough to anchor her; and somehow, impossibly, Manon's other hand roaming up to play with both breasts at once, pinching and twisting her nipples at the same time and in time with Sophia's movements.
Wait, what?
Sophia's eyes jerked open — how the fuck was Manon doing four things at the same time? — and that's when she heard the voice, smooth and laced with playful reproach.
"Well, you two clearly didn't wait for me."
Sophia twisted her head over her shoulder, meeting Lara's eyes — dark, mischievous, fixed on the scene with unmasked hunger.
“Hey, queen, you look like you’re having a good time. Want me to make it even more fun?”
"L-Lara," Sophia managed to gasp out, her voice ragged from the ride, but before she could form a full sentence, one of Lara’s hands was moving from her chest toward her back, and suddenly, Sophia's messy ponytail was moved aside, exposing the nape of her neck.
Sophia's eyes rolled back in her head for a split second, the sensation overwhelming — five points of contact igniting her body at once: Manon's fingers still curling into her relentlessly; Manon’s grip on her thigh holding her steady; Lara’s hands squeezing her breasts; and now Lara's mouth marking her neck, the pull drawing a liquid heat that made her entire body shudder with every suck. She moaned loudly, hips stuttering in their rhythm, trying to rein in the overwhelming pleasure.
“I — I can’t — ”
“You can,” Manon said, “You’ve had a long week. Let go for me. You deserve a break, don’t you?”
“I…”
“Yeah, babygirl,” Lara’s voice cooed from beside her ear. “Won’t be a darling and listen to your girlfriend?”
That was the breaking point. Sophia felt heat surge up from her stomach, pooling into her chest as her breath stuttered, as Manon’s fingers continued, as Lara moved a hand up from her chest and wrapped her fingers gently around Sophia’s neck, holding the girl up in an arc. Sophia wanted to answer, but she couldn’t move, she couldn’t even breathe; she could only feel the unrelenting spikes of pleasure, the eruption of her nerves, building on each other like a cascade of stepping stones, stilling her thoughts —
“Oh, fuck, fuck — oh — Manon, Manon, I — oh, oh — ”
She briefly registered herself jerking in Lara’s arms, feeling her entire core tighten and shudder around Manon’s hand between her thighs. Manon was saying something, she could hear a yeah, she likes this kind of overstimulation, just a bit to get her to come a second time, and an also, she likes when you call her babygirl, i can feel her clenching around my fingers, then Lara was laughing lightly, and she herself still was making noises — so many noises — and she could hear herself whimpering, perhaps slightly sobbing, along with the wet sound of Manon’s fingers — Manon, Manon, Manon — pushing in, curling up, pulling out. Sophia wanted to kiss her so bad, she wanted to be pressed against someone, skin-to-skin, to be shut up —
She couldn’t stall her movements or the sounds that spilled free from her mouth. But she could feel the movement beside her, of Lara tilting her head, of Lara’s lips against the edge of her jaw, and something compelled her — she wasn’t sure what, she wasn’t sure why — and Sophia turned toward Lara with a single “p-please,” but the other girl seemed to perfectly understand what she wanted.
Lara swallowed what would’ve been another whimper as Manon shifted slightly before Sophia, twisting Sophia’s head gently to catch her mouth in a greedy, sloppy kiss. Their teeth clicked once before Lara pulled Sophia closer, so that Sophia’s back was completely pressed against her front, and she was feeding on Sophia’s gasps, taking no breaths in between, the same way someone starved might’ve done so with a free meal.
Colors pulsed behind Sophia’s eyelids: hot gold, cold violet, then blackout spots. She couldn’t reach Manon, so instead, she gripped at the arm Lara was using to hold her body up, fingertips digging in sinewy muscle, but Lara’s hand did not budge. The feeling of powerlessness, of being between two beautiful women, drew another desperate whimper from her; she could do nothing except accept the overstimulating pleasure, exactly the way submissive hunger secretly craved. Manon seemed to take advantage of the dazed state that Sophia was in, shifting low enough to move Sophia’s thigh, lifting her hips a little more off the mattress, and that new angle allowed her knuckles to hit skin deeper, to give Sophia’s g-spot a merciless, persistent press with each thrust. Hot, filthy words poured over Sophia, two voices braiding into one command.
“There you go, such a good girl, won’t you come again for me?” Manon praised, voice ragged now, excitement thickening her breath, while Lara broke the kiss from Sophia’s lips for a moment, just to say, “Come again for us, babygirl.”
Their shared cadence shattered the last of Sophia’s composure, and she teetered on the precipice of a second climax before the first had fully ebbed.
It crashed through her savagely, much harder than before. Sophia felt as though she had no verbal framework left, only a guttural sound that scraped along her throat while every muscle locked, tremored, and released. Her body spasmed in powerful ripples, tightening around Manon’s buried fingers. The air tasted of sweaty sex and floral perfume, and over the roaring of blood in her ears, she heard herself whimpering again, as Lara drew back, and Manon’s fingers finally, finally came to a still. Nonetheless, her girlfriend’s fingers remained at rest inside her, just letting her pulse around the stillness. Her mind, however, was drifting, and all she could register was the lingering touches, the smell of sex, and the sound of gentle voices and light giggles around her.
By the time she regained more of an awareness of where she was, Sophia was still bare, but she was at least already wrapped loosely in her own sheets. Manon was also under the sheet, with an arm draped over her side, rubbing and warm and grounding circles near her hip, and Lara was on the other side, this time, on top of the sheet — but she was close enough that her arm was brushing sophia’s bare shoulder, and also distant enough as if to let Sophia have her warmth come from Manon primarily. The two were talking softly, over her head, about upcoming parties and such.
It was Manon who first noticed her looking up, and her girlfriend shifted slightly, her voice soft and careful. “You okay?” she asked, brushing a strand of damp hair from Sophia’s forehead. Her question was gentle, almost hesitant, as if she were checking the fragile edges of Sophia’s composure. “We kind of lost you there at the end.”
Sophia tried to answer, but her throat felt raw, her words coming out raspy, broken by a soft cough. Lara, sitting beside her, offered a bottle of water from her nightstand with a small, teasing smile. “Here,” she said. “How do you feel?”
For a moment, Sophia blinked at her. The thought hit her like a jolt: Lara — one of her best friends — had just seen her completely naked, and so exposed, so vulnerable, coming twice over, with Manon right there, and…
Sophia almost laughed at the absurdity, but her throat was too sore, her body too drained to do anything more than accept the water, hands shaking slightly as she held the bottle.
“Thanks. I feel good. A bit tired… I — I don’t really know what to say, I…”
Manon’s thumb brushed gently along her arm. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” she murmured. “Just… come here.”
Sophia’s chest rose and fell in slow, shallow breaths, the room still swimming with warmth and the afterglow of sensation. She leaned against Manon instinctively, letting the closeness anchor her.
“Hey, uh,” Lara shifted slightly, sitting up a little more, her tone light but careful. “Do you want me to go? I mean, this was a lot of fun, and I love both of you guys, but, like, most definitely platonically — sorry, both of you are really hot though, like, being so for real — but I don’t want to intrude on couple time or anything.”
Sophia blinked at her, heart slowing as the haze of sensation finally thinned enough for thought. She realized, with a small laugh to herself, that there had literally no reason to feel jealous. Lara was one of her best friends, and she — Sophia — had been the center of everything that had just happened. It had been an overwhelmingly good experience, yes, but it had also been entirely her experience. In fact, now that she was thinking about it, she wouldn’t have minded if Manon had been in her place instead; everything had felt consensual, caring, and fun.
“No, don’t leave,” Sophia said before she could overthink it. “Just… come here.” She lifted the edge of her sheet a little, so that Lara could get under and closer.
“Oh?” Manon asked, from behind Sophia, her tone teasing.
Lara grinned back, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Okay,” she said, scooting closer. She tucked under the sheet, beside Sophia, and for a moment the three of them were a tangled heap of warmth.
“Well,” Manon said, voice soft but amused, “this is cute. Glad we’re using your extended bed, Sophia, or else one of us would’ve had to take the floor.”
“Mhm… would’ve been you probably,” Sophia snuffled quietly in response, a mix of exhaustion and contentment, letting herself be pulled closer into the comfort of the space.
Lara laughed at that, as Sophia reached for the girl and wrapped her arms in her warmth as well. “So… babygirl, huh?," Lara teased, "I mean, I remember you saying good girl was fine when we had coffee, but I will say babygirl did catch me by surprise.”
The offhand comment made Sophia’s face flush instantly, heat creeping up her neck and ears.
“Actually, fuck you, Lara. You can take the floor. Better yet, just leave.”
Except she wasn’t really pushing anyone away. Sophia knew it was a lost cause. Somehow, she’d shifted so that Manon was spooning her from behind, warm and steady, and she had an arm wrapped around Lara, holding her close. Even as the words left her mouth, her own grip did not loosen. Instead of tension, her words were met with laughter. Soft, bright, entirely unjudging laughter from both behind and in front of her. Manon’s breath hitched against her shoulder as she wheezed out a laugh, and Lara rolled her eyes, grinning as she shook her head at Sophia’s flustered face.
Sophia was certain that this was just bliss. Pure, heavy, warm, and restful bliss. Her body, exhausted from a day that had begun at seven in the morning and carried her through constant motion, until now, which was 11 PM, had finally decided that the presence of two warm bodies and soft giggles of laughter were enough to allow Sophia to surrender to sleep.
In the morning, she would freak out about the fact that she was, in fact, naked, had sex — had a threesome — in her own bed, and that Manon and Lara would be pressed up against her bare skin, while still relatively dressed. But for now, wrapped in the warmth of her girlfriend and one of her homegirls, and the lingering afterglow of everything that had just happened, it really did feel like a good time for sleep. And so she slept.
She could work on re-compartmentalizing her life tomorrow.