edierone:

no idea whose handwriting this is or why they’d write it or who it’s supposed to be about but it’s fun isn’t it? happy ficlet fantasy friday!

Drifting up from a warm, dozy sleep, she feels the bed shifting under her, and the weight of an arm draped across her. She smiles, keeping her eyes closed, snuggling against him. He keeps moving, though, instead of settling in, and she mumbles, “What’re you doin?”

He’s propped himself up on one elbow behind her, the arm over her doing something complicated.

“Taking a bed selfie.”

“Huh?” She still hasn’t opened her eyes. What the fuck time is it, anyway?

“A bed selfie.” 

Like that explains it.

One eye, then the other, slides reluctantly open, and she can make out his iPhone a few inches away in the dimness. They’re both in the frame, grainy and low-res; her hair is spilled out over the pillow, her bare shoulder exposed, his muscled arm disappearing into the corner where his hand is holding the phone. His thumb touches the button.

“It’s gonna be a week till we see each other again — I need a souvenir for when I get lonely,” he says.

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