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Sounds of rain filled the early morning sky, dark clouds in place of the usual bright sun. Raindrops pattered against the windows, the trees outside swaying in the light storm.
Fareeha Amari leaned against the counter, wearing sweatpants and a sports bra as she watched coffee drip into the pot. The rainy day made her more relaxed than usual, closing her eyes and listening to the rain tap against the roof.
Angela broke the sound of the rain with a loud groan, holding her head as she pressed it against the kitchen table, trying to dispel her aching hangover. Miserable. Wearing a snuggie only helps so much. She became slightly less miserable as Fareeha slid a cup of coffee in front of her. She took it graciously, blowing on it before taking a sip, Pharah taking the seat across from her with a look of concern. “How are you feeling?”
“Like someone started a mariachi band at the rave.” Angela grumbled as she took another sip of coffee, flinching as she burnt her tongue. “Aw...ow.”
“That’s..specific.” Fareeha couldn’t help but smile as Angela held her tongue. “I like how a mariachi band is more painful than a rave.” Angela set her mug on the table, bags under her eyes from exhaustion.
“They’re just….so happy. It’s fake. At least at a rave people are honest about having nothing better to do than get fucked up.” Mercy said the words with a honestly painful expression, as if she had put hours of thought into her opinion. She probably had. The security guard accepted the words with grave respect, her elbow on the table as she rested her cheek in her palm.
“Realistically depressed mariachi bands. If only.” Pharah noted, watching Angela solemnly agree, her face weary and hungover. Dr. Ziegler stared at the milky surface of her coffee, repeating Fareeha’s last words.
“If only.”
“Okay.” Fareeha stood up, pushing back her chair loudly in the process, the lazy eyes of her wife watching her. “You are seriously bumming me out.”
“I can’t help it. I’m suffering from veisalgia.” Angela lolled her head to the side, closing her eyes as Fareeha pulled out her phone, trying to figure out what the fuck her lovebird just said. After several spell checks later, Pharah shoved her phone into her pocket, stooping down and scooping Angela into her arms.
“I know you have a hangover. Bare with it. Let’s get you to bed. Or the couch. Couch’s closer.” Angela smiled softly as she let herself be carried to the couch, relaxing as Fareeha set her down and draped a blanket over her. “Comfortable?”
“Ja. Danke.” Angela closed her eyes again, listening to the rain gently coax her to sleep. That is, until someone set an ice-cold bag of peas wrapped in a towel on her forehead. “HOLY FUCK! ” Angela sprang up in surprise, nearly headbutting Fareeha who was currently leaning over her. “WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!”
Fareeha cleared her throat, handing her a water bottle. “I thought maybe I could help cure your hangover. Drink that.”
“As a doctor, I think I just need a little sleep.” Angela sighed, setting the bottle aside and kicking the bag of peas off the couch. Pharah rubbed her neck sheepishly, not meeting her eyes.
“I’m….sorry.”
Mercy paused before breaking into a warm smile, grabbing Fareeha and pulling her onto the couch. “You’re too adorable for me to stay mad at you~” Fareeha laid next to Angela, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to say something.
“I….uh…” Pharah shifted, wrapping her arms around her spouse, Angela setting her head in the crook of Fareeha’s neck as she went back to sleep. Mrs. Amari laid there awkwardly, feeling Angela breathe against her, her body resting comfortably in Pharah’s arms.
She smiled, planting a kiss on Mercy’s forehead before closing her eyes as well.
“Thank you.”