Chapter Text
Skin. Glorious, terrible skin. And in my mouth the taste of fur and pine, with a dash of synthetic pink. Just enough to make my skin crawl in delightfully familiar displeasure. My eyes snap open, body frozen as if in some sort of rigor mortis, stiff and unyielding as the dead.
Or perhaps that might just be the werewolf strewn across my form—limbs contorted like a marionnette, snore healthy enough to rouse the bodies beneath skull tree. Enid Sinclair—my roommate. Pressed flush against me like the world's most colorful weighted blanket. 'Or perhaps a straitjacket,' I consider fondly.
With a huff of breath I futilely attempt to clear my face of pink and blonde. "Eniddd," I call, the words sounding with a groan. 'Hmm. Deeper than I remember. Curious.'
"While I do enjoy suffocation as much as the next person," I continue, "we really ought to have a discussion about boundaries." The words emerge with a gravel and timbre completely foreign to my ears. Clearly, they've also fallen deaf on Enid's, as the girl responds with little more than a grunt before returning to the confines of sleep.
I take the time to clear my throat, and ponder the likelihood that I've acquired a cold. Granted, a bob of hair is currently being shoved up my esophagus, so who's to say that's not to blame for my current vocal estrangement. 'A problem for later, I suppose.' Returning to my current predicament, I wriggle around to return bloodflow to my extremities, and decide upon a new tactical approach.
My newly awakened hands crawl their way through sheet and limb to shoulder height, before reaching out and giving the slumbering lycanthrope a nudge. Then another, barring any reaction to the first. Finally, I give up any hopes of waking the obviously comatose beast, and shove, doing my best to push her body to the side of the bed. She rolls completely unwillingly, slack and sleep-grumbling, her body unwinding its way out of the blankets like a werebutterfly being freed from its chrysalis. Triumphant, and finally free, I hinge myself up into a sitting position to take stock of the situation, and freeze.
This is not my room. These are not my midnight sheets. And that is certainly a very, very naked Enid lying facedown beside me.