The morning sunlight filters through the curtains in pale streaks, cutting across our small apartment like golden ribbons. I pad into the kitchenette in my oversized hoodie—technically Julia's, but I've claimed it enough times that ownership is debatable. I've taken a shower. I feel so refreshed.
Julia's already up, her long legs tucked under her as she kneels on the counter like some breakfast goblin. Her hair is up in a messy bun that looks somehow intentional, and she's elbow-deep in the cereal cupboard.
"Morning," she says without turning around. "You want oats or sugar disguised as nutrition?"
"Sugar, obviously," I mumble, rubbing sleep from my face. "Need energy for today. How's your date with Liam?"
She slides a neon-colored cereal box across the counter without missing a beat. "Nothing wild, we just tried a new restaurant and we went to his friend's place. Trust me, if anything gossip-worthy had happened, I would've told you without being asked!"
