Jerrie Oneshot Book

Carry Me Home Tonight

Summary: It's probably sheer stubbornness, Jade thinks. Even so, it doesn't mean she's just going to leave her like that.

Or, the one where Perrie has a habit of falling asleep around the apartment, and Jade develops a habit of carrying her back to bed.

If someone were to ask Jade if she knows Perrie Edwards well, she'd be pretty comfortable with giving a positive answer.

But now, two months into sharing an apartment with her, Jade's still finding out just how much she's missed over the year-long span of their friendship.

For one, Perrie is messy.

It's a weird kind of messy, too.

Jade's used to people leaving their stuff all around, letting piles and piles of endless things build up in the most random spaces of their abodes. Usually, it's just because people are sentimental. They're still attached to their things, but they either can't or won't find a way to store them properly. All of this leads to an organized sort of clutter that's still loosely tied to some type of unspoken, unwritten system.

But with Perrie, once an object becomes unnecessary or irrelevant, it somehow completely ceases to exist at all. It's like she just silently decides that it, whatever it is – a book, a phone bill, an old laptop charger – just becomes invisible. She doesn't look at it, she doesn't touch it – not even to put it aside or throw it away. It just drops from her radar entirely.

She doesn't even seem to notice if Jade puts it aside. Or throws it away. Or starts using it for herself.

Just last week, she'd poked at a plain black sweater that had spent the last five days lying over the back of the couch. "Is this supposed to go into the laundry, or what?"

Perrie hadn't even looked up from her laptop. "Don't know."

Jade had raised a brow at her. "Did you wear it?"

Perrie had glanced up then. It was no more than a second or two. "Don't think so," she'd reported, eyes already back on her computer screen.

Jade had blinked, one hand on her hip. "Should I just toss it, then?"

A shrug. "Sure."

Jade had ended up putting it in a small box stashed in the hall closet, along with a few other items of clothing that Perrie had apparently and abruptly decided didn't belong to her anymore over the last couple of months.

So, yeah. That's one thing.

For another, Perrie is efficient.

Well, that's not exactly news. Jade's always known that. But she hadn't realized just how efficient the blonde was until they'd moved in together.

Perrie's scary quick at chores. Whenever it's Jade's night for doing the dishes, she usually takes long enough that her hands start to go pruny before she's done.

Whenever it's Perrie's turn for washing up, Jade usually gets back from taking out the trash to find all their dishes already drying on the rack.

Perrie also has a habit of marathoning complete movie trilogies and whole seasons of TV shows within a single day, armed with no more than her college sweater and a single pot of tea. Sometimes, Jade will join her – but after five or six hours, she has to admit defeat and take a break, even if it's just to rest her dry eyes.

Perrie barely even takes bathroom breaks. It's so intimidating.

Perrie does it with work, too. She'll plant herself on the couch, or at the kitchen table, and just go on what Jade can only describe as a 'bender'. It usually lasts anywhere between twenty minutes to twenty hours.