Be My Dreamcatcher [girlxgirl]

Five

A/N: Any song recommendations fit for this story and Eva and Charley? So far I have Taylor's "New Romantics" for Eva's personality.
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My phone buzzes from somewhere around and ugh I don't want this cloudy feeling to be over.

I extend my hand to shut the noise up and-

Well, it escaped me that I was sleeping on the couch. My eyes are completely open and mind aware now that my ass is suddenly on the floor.

I turn the phone screen upward. A yawn escapes my mouth as I realize that it's just a stupid alarm and-

Wait, another shock.

It's not an alarm, it's The Alarm. The one I set for the last moment; to wake up and run for work, in case I sleep in. I've never needed it before. Never before today.

"Goddammit, shit, fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuck," I mutter as I pick myself from the floor and-

Bingo! Strike three.

I had forgotten that Eva was here.

I run to my room like the devil is on my heels.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up." I hit her with a nearby pillow. "Wake up you dumbfuck! Fuckin' hell, asshat, wake up!" I hit her with the pillow again.

"The fuck?" she turns on her back and grumbles. Her eyes shoot open after seeing me there with the pillow clutched like a spear in my hand my hand. "Why are you assaulting me?"

"Wake up dumbass! Ten minutes left to arrive at work."

She smiles. "Quit shouting, I have a hell of a hangover. And you're very swear-y in the morning."

I walk over to my drawers to fish out something to wear. "Only when I'm getting late for," I throw a shirt at her stupid, smiling, gorgeous face, "work!"

She just bats it aside. "Calm the fuck down, will you? I am your boss and I'm here in your bed with a hangover, a bed head, and-God I hope not-smeared lipstick. So chill, who's even going to reprimand you?"

I round up to face her. Off topic, but the bed head looks fabulous no matter what she thinks. "You shitweasel! If we saunter in to work, together, late, and looking like this, what idea would this give to others?"

In the middle of my little monologue, Eva has picked up her phone from the nightstand and is now only nodding, clearly not listening to a word I said.

"I said," I throw two other shirts at her, "GET UP!"

"And I said," she looks up from her screen, "stop assaulting me. I'm wounded, can't you see?"

"No I can't. Get up."

Finally, she puts the phone down. "We're not going to the museum today."

"We're not?"

"Nope. I'm your senior, I've handled it." She waves her phone at me.

"So I'm just . . . calling in?"

"Technically, no, but practically, yes."

I drop the dresses back in the drawer and sit down at the bed. "Wow, I guess there are some perks of kissing your bosses. Why are we calling in? You are the one with the hangover."

Now she looks rather unsure, as nervous as I've seen Eva Bridgers to be. "Well I was hoping that, uh, maybe what you said last night-we could go look into Lydia's stuff and everything. I mean I remember you did agree last night, so if you haven't changed your mind . . ."