Let Me Borrow That Top || Molly & Julius
che-belladonna:
“Mmhmm,” she nodded her head in agreement, “Though that means we’d have to move, because I’m not down with living with a ghost.” Molly turned her head from the mirror to look back to Julius, shooting him a very serious look. Cousin or not, ghosts were out of the question for her.
“Well, thank you! I promise I won’t hoarde it,” she turned from the mirror fully now, taking the hanger off from the top to return it to the closet and folding garnet over her arm.
“No, I don’t have work until the afternoon. I woke up like an hour ago and figured I’d try to reorganize my closet and some of the furniture in my room…I thought I had purged a lot at home but I guess not.”
“Ew,” Julius agreed, wrinkling his nose at the idea of a murdered and re-animated ghostly Kasey, squinting disapprovingly back at Molly in the dim light of his room from over the lip of his comforter. That boy was enough of a mess without slopping ectoplasm all over the place. At least when he was alive he could contain his mess on the inside of his skin.
“Well then— tell him not to die. I don’t want to have to move again. I’d like to stay in one place for a while… and maybe finally finish unpacking, if I can help it.”
He sighed, exhausted (after a mere thirty seconds of consciousness) at the idea of someone waking up so early without a commitment to attend. “Whatever happened to beauty sleep?” he mumbled, sinking down under his comforter entirely, his voice continuing in a muffled purr as he now put on a brief show of refusing to come back out. “For you… for me… you know I’m not going to be able to go back to sleep, now.”
He sat up again with a start. “In fact, I think you ought to make me breakfast. To apologize.”
“I mean, I’ll try, but that doesn’t mean he’ll listen, you know. He might think becoming a ghost is cool or something,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the thought. Julius had a point though, it would be nice to finally finish organizing and unpacking and settle in.
She gave him a shrug of her shoulders, closing his closet she had opened and seemingly forgetting why she had opened it to look in the first place.
“I don’t need beauty sleep,” she responded, and left it at that, her attention now occupied by a bottle of perfume of his sitting out as she picked it up and sniffed it.
“Huh?” She quired a brow, looking to him as she set the bottle down.
“Well, I’ll make breakfast but I’m not apologizing for you needing beauty sleep. What do you want?”