Monica walked languidly over to her vanity with only the thin sheet wrapped around her naked body.
She was happy. So, so, so beyond happy. Happy that Chandler had fallen asleep in her bed after a long, nearly 4 hours of on and off sex, and how the sound of his soft breathing filled her now quiet room. She was happy that it was almost one thirty in the morning and he didn't have to race back over to his apartment. Though it came with struggles, formally telling their group of friends about their relationships had dozens of benefits, one of them being that neither of them were required to constantly sneak back over to the other apartment, the risk of being discovered looming over their heads. she was overjoyed that they could wake up together to the sound of her alarm, both of them exiting her room and greeting their friends with a yawn.
she settled into the chair in front of the mirror, blushing at the sight of herself. When had she ever allowed herself to look like this?
Her normally maintained, slightly wavy hair, was now frizzy and knotted. Her mascara was smudged all under her eyes, the black making it look like she had large eye-bags, and her dark lipstick was smudged all around her mouth. Her arms, chest, and forehead were slicked with sweat and her breathing was still ragged and irregular. she had hickeys plastered up and down her neck as well as across her shoulders and clavicle. Plus, if she pulled the sheet down, she was 99% sure she would have marks across her cleavage, preventing her from wearing a low-cut tank top for at least a couple days. she looked beat up.
If there was one thing she could confidently say about Chandler, it would be that he left his mark on her.
She reached for a makeup wipe and brought it to her under-eyes first, then around her mouth. after her face was clean, she grabbed her brush and began to rake it through her hair. the more she brushed, the more frizzy it became. she knew the only way to truly get her hair back to normal again was to shower, but she didn't nearly have enough energy to stand under the hot water. if she were to shower it would have to be with him helping her stand, but she wouldn't dare wake him up at this point.
She shakily stood and moved to the closet. she dug through quietly and grabbed a pair of old black sweatpants, a pair she had had since college. she than grabbed a tight and slightly uncomfortable sports bra, a garment you wouldn't want to wear after sex.
They had eaten dinner together, and shorty after they were finished, they had stumbled back into her bedroom, leaving everything else behind, untidy and out of place. the dishes were undone, the living room was a mess, she could hear the tv still rambling on, and she wouldn't stand for living like this. she physically couldn't.
she sighed, about to exit her room, her hand grasping the metal doorknob, when Chandler stirred.
"Where are you going?" his voice suddenly sounded from her bed. It was raspy and tired, his eyes half-lidded.
She paused, now caught, "Well," she coughed. She knew he wouldn't allow or approve of this. "the dishes aren't done and the garbage isn't taken out. Not to mention how messy the living room is and—"
"Monica," He interrupted, his voice soft and even. "let's worry about that tomorrow. We have to be up in less than five hours, come to bed."
Her hand still on the doorknob, she had a choice to make. be stubborn and defiant, but also miserable. Or, go to sleep and have extra work to do in the morning. The answer she would have liked to have chosen, was the one chandler would refuse to see turn into a reality. So she released her doorknob.
Her willful attitude was going to need more convincing.
"Chandler I can't just leave the apartment like this."
"Why?" he asked.
Why? She'd never asked herself that before
"Because..because i just can't."
"The world won't end if the apartments a little messy." he tiredly croaked out.
"I know but—"
"Monica." he interjected, his tone stern. "come to sleep."
She glanced at the doorknob, then back to him. How could she argue with someone who genuinely wanted the best for her?
She begrudgingly slipped out of her sweats and peeled the sports bra off, letting them fall to the floor as she climbed into bed. Though it was eerie, she enjoyed how much influence he had over her. never in her life had she been able to let something like this go. cleaning up was such an. integral part of her routine. Never had she been able to strip bare in her bedroom and leave the clothing scattered about.
He moved to take her into his arms as she climbed into bed, kissing her gently and caressing her soft, still sensitive, buzzing body. she settled against his chest, curling her body against his. He pushed her hair out of her face, and murmured in her ear as he stroked her hip, "I love you."
she turned her head around and smiled tiredly at him. she cherished each time he spoke those three words, and he spoke them a lot. He reached behind him and tugged on the lamp string, filling the room with comfortable darkness.
"Aren't you tired?" he whispered, fading.
"Exhausted." she mumbled.
"Then let yourself rest. you need it." Chandler hummed.
His Monica, Chandler thought to himself. his stubborn, argumentative, amazing Monica.
It'd most likely be best not to think of her with a possessive pronoun, but after ten of the most amazing months of his life, after all the time they'd spent together and how much he loved having her as his girlfriend, he was kind of starting to think of her as belonging to him. Not in a possessive way but in a...close way. Like they were connected, she was a part of him. Chandler had never felt this close to anybody- not his parents, not a girlfriend. Well, perhaps he was this close to Joey, but Joey didn't give him certain things that Monica did.
Truthfully, going into this he underestimated how much dedication she would take. but his dedication was endless. To butt-heads with her over certain things where he knew he was right, his thinking truly in her best interest. Getting her to relax was a task. But he was willing to do ten times what he was doing now if it meant to have her in his life in this way.
The serious relationship and emotional intimacy were frightening and certainly strange, but they were a lot less frightening and strange because of Monica. If Chandler had to be in a serious relationship with anyone, he'd choose her. His Monica.
"I'm sore," she groaned, stretching out her neck.
"Then i've done my job." he replied in his usual witty manor, kissing her shoulder. "Before you fall asleep I had an idea."
"Oh boy," she flipped over, her tone teasing. "What's up?"
"Let's take a long weekend and go to the hamptons. We could stay at your parents place and have the whole weekend. it's getting warmer and the pool is probably open, and if we leave wednesday night the beach won't be too crowded on Thursday."
She grinned, in love with him, with the idea, with everything. "Sold. but we have to leave thursday night because you have that Rangers game with Joey and Ross on Wednesday."
Her eyes sparkled and she pat his chest in good humour and something tingled through him.
This was it. She was the one. Chandler had a lot of moments like that, where Monica did nothing particularly romantic or purposeful, but it proved everything to him.
Remembering his schedule or tying his tie, meeting him for lunch on a whim. Tidying his desk while she waited for him to come out of the meeting that ran late and slapping his hand so hard in a game of snap that Chandler's eyes had watered.
"I can skip it." He insisted.
"No you can't! It's Rangers versus Islanders! two New York teams! Even I know how big of a deal that is. Don't worry about it, we'll leave when you get home and still have plenty of weekend to enjoy."
He grinned, mentally shaking his head. She was perfect. "okay." he agreed, just as she had agreed to him when she came back to bed.
"Night," Monica whispered, her voice hoarse.
Chandler tried not to feel smug about how satiated she sounded, or that the rasp was a direct result of the sounds she'd made because of him.
"goodnight."