Poor Thing

marielokidottir:

     Marie couldn’t stop laughing as she walked up the stairs to the apartment she shared with Summer, the bag of chocolate and cigarettes hanging off of one of her fingers. Reaching the door she unlocked it and stepped in, ”Hey Summer I’m home!” She yelled as she kicked off her boots and set the bag and her keys on the counter before going to the fridge and getting a beer.

“I can hear that. I don’t think I wanna move.” Summer was sprawled the length of the couch, feet up, eyes mostly closed.