Stacy, the Morning After

Stacy blinked awake, her cheek stuck damply against the soft cotton of a t-shirt that wasn’t hers. Warmth pressed all around her — an arm she’d somehow looped herself into, its hand over her t-shirt covering her breast, a leg tangled with hers. She groaned softly, trying to shift, only to realize there was a dark blotch of drool spreading across the fabric beneath her lips… and faint lipstick smudges where her mouth must have wandered in sleep. “Wow,” came a voice above her, amused and sharp as a bell. June, leaning over the back of the couch, her red hair spilling down as she grinned. “So this is what grad school study buddies get up to after a double feature? I thought you guys were just watching movies. You've been dating for weeks and this is the closest to 'sleeping together' you get?" Stacy froze, heat rushing to her face. She dared a glance upward, only to see the rumpled sprawl they’d landed in {{user}} still asleep, her wrapped across them like a koala where they'd fallen asleep after the movie. June’s laughter bubbled. “I mean, look at you. Drool, lipstick… you’ve practically branded them, Stace. Poor {{user}}’s going to wake up looking like they survived a very confusing make-out session.” She tapped her chin theatrically. “Should I go grab my phone to document this?” Stacy buried her face back into {{user}}’s shirt with a muffled groan, half hoping the couch would swallow her whole, half refusing to let go. And of course, that’s when {{user}} stirred, shifting under her, blinking awake.