Work Text:
Waiting at the bus stop is probably the worst part. Probably. Her hands shove themselves deep into pockets and clench together, her mouth tucks into the top of her coat and her beanie covers her ears. And yet she’s still freezing. And this goddamned bus is taking so long to get here, and it’s probably running late and fuck it’s too early for this shit. She shifts the leaves by her feet, listening to the crunch underfoot and taking a deep breath of cold air that she feels in her throat.
The screech of brakes finally does come, and she shuffles onto the bus, past other characters that make her slightly nervous. And thank fuck there’s a seat near the back where she can hide and plug in her headphones and tune out the world to Melanie Martinez.
And then the bus is stopping, pulling up to her stop and she suddenly feels like crying because god dammit it’s cold this morning.
Standing slowly, she moves towards the outside, and steps off onto the curb. Her apartment complex is cold and dark looking, almost empty of life at 6:00 in the morning, the parking garages full and the yards empty. She walks across frost-bitten grass to get to her door, and then reaches for her keys.
She panics for a moment, when she doesn't feel them in her pocket. And now it’s still cold and she can’t find her keys and she’s going to start sobbing soon because she’s so fucking tired and wants to go to bed and sleep for a decade. She could probably call Thor to come open the door, but she doesn’t want to wake him up, or bother him with something as stupid as misplaced keys.
Somewhere between the impending panic attack and the cold frosty breath puffing out of her mouth, she finds her keys buried in her backpack, and just rests her head against the door in relief, breathing heavily and fumbling them into the cold lock, which sticks because it’s cold, and has she mentioned it’s cold?
She gets the door open, and throws herself inside, slamming the door behind her and leaning back against it to catch her breath and warm up. She toes off her boots, kicks them next to the work boots already sitting by the door, wrestles herself out of coat and backpack, and then heads towards the kitchen to piddle around until she can find some food fit for consumption.
The morning light is a beautiful color, coming in through the window. In this moment she kind of hates it, but she can also appreciate the quiet ambiance it creates. She clicks the kettle on, and searches through the cupboard for that bag of sleepy time tea that her friend gave her, and her bottle of honey.
She watches the kettle lights turn from red to yellow then finally green, and pours the water into the lemon mug from Walmart. Adds the teabag, and two dollops of honey, and a spoonful of sugar. She pushes Mary Poppins from her mind, and pulls out a spoon to stir the tea and taste it. Somehow, she can never manage to make it just how she likes, she’ll have to leave that up to her friend, but having tea at all feels like a goddamn miracle. She sets it on the counter, and then pops two slices of bread into the toaster.
She gathers materials slowly, as if moving too quickly will break the air, will make this morning somehow already worse than it is. She finds an almost overripe avocado, half melted stick of butter and salt and pepper shakers. The toaster popping scares the fuck out of her, and she grumbles to herself while she angrily cuts up the avocado, stirring it and adding salt and pepper. She butters the bread, and spreads the mashed avocado, and then sets the whole thing on a plate. She eyes the peaches in the fruit bowl, and while they look appetizing, she’s exhausted, and will have to get to them later.
She takes her mug and her plate to the coffee table, and just after she’s set them down, she notices the man on the couch. Thor. After a brief moment of panicking, she sits down next to him, and just watches him sleep for a moment. His hair is tangled in a bun on the back of his head, his beard looks a bit scraggy, and his hands are folded on his chest. The morning light shows dust particles flying through the air, and the whole scene is so peaceful, she just wants to put her head down on his chest and fall asleep. But she’s made tea and avocado toast, so she might as well eat them. She starts on the toast, watching Thor breathe and sleep and the sunlight move microscopically across the kitchen counter. She’s just finished her toast, and is sipping at the tea when Thor grunts, and sits up, rubbing at his face. He glances at the time, and groans, muttering under his breath. He looks up, and startles when he sees her sitting next to him.
“God,” He says again, and she laughs, scooting closer to tuck her head under his chin. He pulls her into his lap, then throws the throw blanket from high school over them both. She sets the tea on the coffee table, and they settle down, So that she’s resting her head on his collarbone and he’s nosing at her hairline.
“How was work?” He asks, running calloused fingers along her arm. She sighs, and breathes in the smell of him, sweat and coffee and skin.
“It was pretty shit,” she mumbles. He kisses her forehead, and closes his eyes.
“I tried to wait up for you, wanted to make you breakfast,” He says, sleep thick in his voice. “Fell asleep after Tilly gives the old lady the pot brownies.”
“You watched the Dressmaker?”
“Tried to.” he shrugs. “Just wanted to make you smile.”
“Mm… Just cuddle me. I’ll smile then.” He wraps his arms around her waist, one of his hands reaching up to run dull nails across her scalp.
And suddenly, wrapped up in her boyfriend and a blanket, her morning is better. The soft light from the morning sun lighting up the room, the gentle breathing and warmth she’s lying on. All of the cold and panic and doubt is gone, and she lets herself… just be. Just breathe and live and love.
And everything is fine. Everything is good.