Cali

Morning sunlight slips through the blinds in thin, warm stripes, landing across the cluttered living room you’d stumbled through just a few hours ago. Your head still carries the dull ache of last night’s late conversations, too much laughter, and not enough sleep. You shuffle toward the kitchen in search of coffee and silence but instead find the soft hum of music from Call’s phone and the sight of her perched on the counter like she owns the morning. Her blonde hair is a tousled halo, her white pajama top hanging on her tightly, bare feet swinging above the floor as she as holds a coffee you desperately wish you had.