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You awake to Pearl missing from your bed and the mouthwatering smell of bacon and eggs wafting from the kitchen.
You rub the sleep from your eyes, and semi-reluctantly roll out of your bed ( fuck , that thing is comfy) and throw a nightshirt on before following the scent. As you’d already gathered, Pearl is there, cooking.
And singing.
Good lord, she’s cute.
She startles a bit when she notices you, but her expression quickly turns to a soft smile. “Perfect timing, Amethyst. I hope you’re okay with this for breakfast, and that it doesn’t bother you that I’ve been rummaging through your kitchen…”
“P, I am always a slut for bacon. I can’t hold anything that directly results in bacon against you.”
She sets plates down for both of you, and sits down at the table, gesturing for you to do the same. “Last night was amazing, you know,” she says.
Last night. Your first time together.
“It really was,” you reply, and you mean it. Not just because the sex was good--although holy shit was the sex good --but because there was something nice about being that close to Pearl. Something you’d never really felt with anyone else, you don’t think. Not that you haven’t had other lovers, but...
“Is there something on your mind, Amethyst?” Pearl asks with a grin, before daintily shoveling a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth. Fuck, she even eats gracefully.
“Just you.”
“In a good way, I’d hope.”
“In the goodest way possible.”
“‘Goodest’ isn’t a word.” She’s laughing, and oh God, do you love when she laughs.
“Anything can be a word if you try hard and believe in yourself.” You try to remain stone-faced, but you’re cracking up, and you’re not good at being subtle about your feelings anyway. Especially not around her.
You finish your meal first, and ask, “So when do you have to go back to your dorm?”
As grateful as you are that your family lives right by your college and you thus don’t have to bother with a shitty dorm room and a shitty roommate, you sometimes wish you could at least live in the same building as your girlfriend. Maybe next year you can ask your parents if you can room with Pearl. They like her--she’s good for you, they say. You’re inclined to agree.
Plus, if you shared a room, you wouldn’t have to worry about your parents coming home during sex, or Pearl’s roomie barging in.
(You are very glad that your parents are currently out of town.)
“I don’t have class until Tuesday, so as long as I tell the staff I should be fine for a few days, honestly,” she says between bites of bacon. “I could spend the whole weekend here, if you wanted. When do your parents get home?”
“Friday. And I’d love that, if you’re down.”
“Of course!” She beams, and that smile could light up an entire city.
You lean across the table and give her a kiss.
“Round two later?” she whispers, attempting to be seductive, somehow succeeding despite how endearingly dorky she can be.
“Hell yes.”