13; a day off for the lucky

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Paul woke up first between the two of them. Emma seemed like the type of person to sleep in so this didn't surprise him at all. He tried to stand up without bugging her, but the second she felt the loss of contact, a whimper could be heard. So there he sat, reading whatever book she had left on her side table with her sound asleep on his side.

At some point during his reading, Paul sensed that Emma was awake. She didn't say anything or move at all, but she blinked a couple of times before closing her eyes again. It was the little signs he knew to look for. To comply with the awkward silence, he began to read the words aloud. She would give side comments and notes about whatever had been read and sometimes they would start small talks over the topics.

"What time is it?" Emma yawned, finally sitting up after some time. She picked up her phone and checked. "It's almost 11." She said the words plainly, then went back to sitting at his side under the blanket.

"We should probably eat," he looked down at her for some kind of recommendation. He had no idea what was in her fridge, but if it was like anything he had in his fridge as a college student, they would need to go out to eat. Ramen and macaroni weren't exactly breakfast material.

"Waffle House is open 24/7," was all she could think of. He chuckled at the suggestion. Waffle House, ah, how romantic.

"Sounds good to me." After that, neither of them moved. Emma was just too lazy, and Paul couldn't get up with her basically on top of him. A couple of minutes passed until they looked over to each other.

"Oh, you meant now?" Emma asked, fighting back the urge to laugh at the situation. She stretched her limbs and sat up. "Maybe we could just, like, make something here."

He gave her a look of doubt. "Do you have enough?"

"Probably," she shrugged, standing up and walking over to her fridge. He followed her momentarily. Together, they searched the shelves of food.

"I have eggs and bacon?" She pulled the items out and placed them on the counter. "There's some butter in there, too." The fridge door shut with the kick of her foot.

"I wouldn't mind that."

Paul made a mental note that no matter how bad at cooking Emma seemed, there was a good chance she could've been Gordon Ramsay's heir. Even with something as simple as eggs and bacon. He would have to admit that he was impressed.

Emma also made a mental note. Her's, however, was to keep Paul away from the stove when it was turned on. It was very likely he'd never cooked before. They had to grab the bandages after the second time. They were lucky they never had to use them after then.

They threw their plates into the sink and sat back down at the table. The discussion over the day's activities was about to begin when Emma's phone buzzed. They exchanged glances, both equally confused yet curious, and she moved to pick up the device.

mellyfaith -> overaged assholes
Guys only me and Ted are at the office and it's so boringggg

BillDorr -> overaged assholes
Oh, Ted isn't that bad

mellyfaith -> overaged assholes
Oh no Ted and I haven't spoken a word to each other

TedRich -> overaged assholes
I'm not that bad tho

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