The bedroom was spacious and in disarray. A rather large wardrobe gaped at her with open doors. In front of that, Giselle waded through Laury's clothes. Those from yesterday and the day before, all thrown to the ground, fallen off the ledge of the bed. While the bed was huge, enough for almost three Laurys, it had a single cover. Its size was larger than the bed's length and width. On the walls there were two paintings. The one opposite of the wardrobe, which was located on the left-hand side of the bed and had the door next to it, a canvas reprint of Nighthawks, depicting a diner or cafe located on a corner and it showed a view into the diner. Giselle didn't remember the painter's name anymore, but she remembered the person to be quite famous.

The two windows were at the top end of the bed and opposite of that were at least 30 posters of romantic photographs, naked men and women and some sexual poses. When the brunette looked at it from further away, the details became blurry and a mosaic-like picture emerged. It showed a couple, kissing each other. She had to admit, that was something else.

As the two women had finished the second bottle of wine, the clock ticked past midnight and both decided to go to bed. The store wouldn't open in the morning. They had reached the weekend and both were off, yet the alcohol and her annoying day just made her groan and give in to her body's demand for rest. Laury carried the bottle and glasses over into the kitchen area and lead the way into the bedroom, both women with their torches on her phones lighting up the space. Turning on a ceiling light would just hurt their eyes after spending the entire evening in darkness, holding each other.

"Wow, that thing looks amazing. Where did you get that?", Giselle exclaimed and held her phone toward the wall of posters after she had climbed across the pile of laundry. Was it laundry yet? She wasn't entirely sure. "That? I found it online. Setting it up was a Sunday and about two bars of chocolate. Frustrating as fuck!", her friend told her and grinned, "It is pretty, isn't it?". The brunette smiled and sat down on one side of the bed, untied her hair and stared at it for a while.

Meanwhile Laury plugged her phone into the socket and climbed under the cover. Curiously she glanced over at her guest, that was partially hidden by shadows. Giselle bit her lip when she found an artistic photograph of a naked, beautiful woman on top of a man, clearly enjoying the act. Slowly the sadness returned and dragged her back into the cold sea. The torch went dark and with it the whole room. She forced herself to smile, slipped under the cover next to her friend and could already feel the warmth spread. It wasn't her place, nor was it familiar, but she did feel quite safe here. "You done with whatever's going on again in your head?", the coworker asked and shuffled to rest her head on her palm and glance over. "I think so, why?", she said and turned her head. Then Laury leaned in and they shared a brief kiss. Giselle almost let herself drift, but when she realized and processed what was happening, she pushed her friend back. "I'm _not_ sleeping with you!", she declared and sighed. Yet a smile crept upon her lips and Laury burst out in laughter. "Fuck, you're so tense. No wonder monogamy works for you!", the woman teased.

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"What do you mean by that? That I can't have fun?". "That's exactly what I'm saying. Maybe though, that's why I'm single. Is that why I'm single?", the other woman asked with a high pitched voice. "You're single, because you're forcing it. Also, are you trying to kiss all your friends?", Giselle wanted to be mad, but somehow she knew it was Laury's very own, twisted way of being friendly. The teen in that woman never quite grew up it seems. "There it is again! I'm forcing it! What does that even mean!", her coworker fell back into the sheets, hard enough to cause a ripple that made Giselle bounce slightly. Then both stared at the ceiling with their hands under their respective heads. Giselle mused as Laury contemplated life, "It means you're too old to look slutty. All you're getting are those that want to fuck you, not those that want to snuggle you". "You mean I shouldn't wear a cleavage?". "Yeah, that and less make-up", she smiled and had an image float through her head how beautiful her friend would be. "You'll help me tomorrow. We have time and Ian can wait", Laury chuckled and sighed expectantly.

"Sure thing. I want to have breakfast before that. Maybe I'll have you for breakfast", the brunette said and bit her lip. She wasn't remotely interested in her friend, it just felt like enjoyable banter now. "Hah! Sweets, you're naughty. I taste good with butter and jam! Good night, Giselle".