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L E O N I E


I love waking up in the morning with a dry throat, and cottonmouth and a headache so bad that I could have sworn that a horse kicked me in the face last night. So good. So fun. Hint the heavily applied sarcasm. Not as heavy as my limbs though.

Heath slept on his stomach, his back was so firm and his muscles made me drool. Tan and gorgeous. He had this light sprinkle of freckles across the top of his shoulders. A sure sign of a lot of sun. I loved it.

While last night was a bit of a blur, I was sure that he'd spent a considerable length of time dealing with my antics.

So I slipped out of bed and left him snoozing while I went in search of a shower. It was only nine. So I assumed that Jazz would be sleeping in after her shift and Sarah could see me out and about in her brother's T-shirt. I really didn't care.

But of course, my luck, Jazz walked out of the bathroom right as I was going in. We bumped into each other at the threshold and I squealed as I bounced back. "Shit. Oh—" I slapped a hand across my mouth— "hello. Good morning."

She smiled. She didn't even give me one of those malicious once overs that I've witnessed a time or two when I've been sneaking out on a one night stand or getting a glass of water in Jess's kitchen.

"Good morning Leonie," she slipped her hands into her robe pockets. I didn't see a lot of Jazz. That was partly because of her hours. And partly because Heath and I hung out at my apartment more than we hung out here. Bit hard to bang when your little sister was on the other side of a paper thin wall. "How was your night?"

"Oh. Yeah. It was— yeah— that was— fun— hey I love your slippers. They're cute."

She glanced down at her feet and pulled her brows together, wiggling her five dollar Target slippers. I had the same pair at home. About six of them. She didn't need to know that though. This was incredibly fucking awkward.

"So," she looked up at me again. "What are your plans today? Heath told me that you love a lazy Sunday but you should join us for lunch."

"Oh," I looked back at Heath's bedroom door and felt some sense of deja vu. Like I'd had this conversation before. When I turned around, she was still smiling, waiting for an answer. "Yeah that sounds nice."

"Great."

"Yeah," I inhaled a deep breath. "I'm uh— just going to have a shower. If that's alright?"

"Yeah," she sidestepped and waved me forward. "Go for it. There are clean towels on the cabinet."

"Thanks."

I hated the fact that Heath's bathroom didn't have a lock on the door. But it was like that for Sarah. She'd had episodes before where she'd passed out or needed help and it wasn't safe to have to door locked just in case something went wrong. But there weren't a lot of people in the house and it was a firm rule to knock before entering.

So I sat down for a wee, washed my hands, swished some mouthwash since I had no toothbrush and switched on the shower. Last week I'd had a Brazilian. Like I did every six weeks and I was still soft and smooth. I tried to get Jess to go with me, but she hated the pain of waxing so she shaved. Ugh. Waxing was worth five minutes of sting, rather than three weeks of re growth that itched and felt course.
And of course Amy was a naturalist and let her hair grow. Whatever. No judgement.

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