He opened an eye as she did her makeup in his mirror.
They always were.
Even drunk, he had good taste.
He closed his eye, pretended to sleep.
She’d sneak out,
they always did.
“I know you ain’t sleepin’. I’ve played this game before.”
He turned in bed.
She snatched his blanket. “Last night you promised me the world, this morning you’ll at least make me breakfast. Then, like a gentleman, you’ll walk me to my car. I don’t do walk-of-shames.”
He found himself calling her the next day.