It's a Bonus

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Mia Cunningham tightened the waistband of her sweatpants before shuffling to the bathroom, grabbing her toothbrush, and turning the faucet on. In the mirror she glanced at her reflection as the toothpaste cap popped open in one hand, the plastic bristles ready in the other. Dark under eyes, some baggage, and dry, flaky spots around her nose— it was just another day.

Richard Madden opened the bedroom door and stepped outside lazily, yawning as he joined his roommate in front of the sink, pinching her side as he passed.

She flinched in annoyance. "'Scuse you," she mumbled, with white sud bubbles forming along the corners of her mouth.

"Good morning to you, too." He grabbed the bottle of mouthwash and spun the cap open, throwing his head back to freshen up and gargle.

"Use a fucking cup," Mia responded, rinsing her mouth.

"Mm-hmm," he hummed, swishing away. He took her place when she stepped aside, to return to her own room that was adjacent.

Spitting out the contents in a loud pew, Richard wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and went straight for the kitchen, scanning the refrigerator. Just as he was about to grab the leftovers from the night before, a roar bounced off the walls of their outdated flat.

"Good morning, London! Good morning, Richard! Good morning, Mia!"

"Too early for that, mate," Richard mumbled with a scowl on his face.

Oliver Thompson laughed and took a seat at the breakfast table. He propped his feet up on a stool, wiggling his tools to make the puppies on his lounge socks dance. It greatly amused him.

"You smoked another one, didn't you?" Mia asked. She was on the sofa now, balancing a laptop on her pretzeled legs.

"Now, now, Mia, love..." He turned to Richard, whose nose was halfway through a mug of black coffee. "It's too early for that!"

"No such thing in that case," Richard chuckled. "I always say."

"Whatever," Mia said as she rolled her eyes. Resting her fingertips on the keyboard, she turned to her left and looked out the window, watching the glass fog the picture of falling snow. She shivered, then pulled a plush blanket up to her chest. "How am I supposed to get to my thesis meeting now?"

"Easy. Don't go," Richard teased. He nodded his head at Oliver for support. "Or pack a shovel."

"You'd think there'd be collapsable shovels by now. Pocket shovels."

"Oh, shut up, you two." Mia saved the document on her computer and closed it shut, sliding it off to the other end of the large cushion. Curling up into a ball for warmth, she added, "Ollie, you going out tonight?"

He rubbed his eyes and coughed. "What for?"

"Valentine's Day. Any plans?"

"None, I don't think. Should I make some?"

Richard poured himself another mug as the microwave dinged timely. Carefully withdrawing the plastic container, he hissed at the hot steam, consciously not making a fuss about it. "Does Emma know that you didn't put in any effort yet again this year?"

"Emma knows that we're gonna get it on tonight," Ollie chimed. "Can I get the flat alone?"

"The whole night?" Mia spat. "And where are we supposed to sleep, then?"

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