Oh shit, work!

Sunlight slices through the blinds, harsh and insistent, pulling me from sleep with a jolt. My phone buzzes on the nightstand, the alarm I'd set months ago for early shifts now blaring twenty minutes late. Elena stirs against my chest, her breath hitching as she lifts her head, ponytail tousled and eyes bleary with confusion. "What time?" she mumbles, voice thick from sleep, her hand fumbling across my stomach toward the nightstand.

I glance at the screen. 7:40 a.m. I curse under my breath. Monday. Work. I'd blacked out after the dream, the apartment's hush lulling me too deep, and she'd melted into me like she belonged there. No wonder. We'd crashed tangled together after midnight, bodies spent from the evening's intimacies, Tessa's soft snores the only other sound in the quiet. Now reality crashes in. "Shit, we're late," I say, already rolling out of bed, sheets whispering as they fall away. Elena sits up sharply, freckles stark against her flushed cheeks, and scrambles for her phone. Hers chimes too, notifications stacking like a scolding from the firm.

"Meeting at eight," she groans, swinging her legs over the edge. Her sleep shorts ride up toned thighs, but there's no time for lingering glances. We move in a frantic blur. I yank on yesterday's jeans from the floor, the fabric stiff against my skin, while she dashes to the bathroom, door banging open. The shower hisses to life, steam billowing as she calls out, "We need to go now. Mark will have my head." I follow suit, brushing teeth at the sink while she rinses off in record time, water pattering against tile like hurried rain. No shared suds this morning. Intimacy yields to necessity.

I towel dry haphazardly, stubble shadowing my jaw as I pull on a wrinkled button-down from the closet. Elena emerges, wrapping herself in yesterday's jeans and tee, ponytail twisting into a hasty knot. Her green eyes meet mine in the mirror, a spark of shared panic laced with something lighter. Last night's trust still humming beneath the chaos. "Coffee?" she asks, but I shake my head. No time. We grab keys and shoes, her hand brushing mine as we step into the living room.

Tessa's still curled on the couch, throw blanket pooled around her waist, emerging from deeper sleep. Her dark hair fans across the pillow in damp waves, the oversized tee riding up to reveal the curve of her hip. She blinks awake, olive skin glowing in the morning light, and murmurs a sleepy "Morning?" We pause, my hand on the door. "Stay as long as you need," I tell her, weaving a quick proxy thread for comfort. Proxy mornings like this feel almost normal now, the app's hum faint and approving. Elena nods beside me, her shoulder grazing mine. "There's cereal in the kitchen. Lock up when you go." Tessa's lips curve into a soft smile, eyes adoring but content, as she pulls the blanket higher.

We bolt down the stairs, no elevator wait, emerging into the crisp Monday air. Elena's Honda waits curbside, unlocked from last night. She slides behind the wheel, engine roaring to life as I buckle in, the scent of her citrus shampoo clinging faintly. Traffic snarls on the avenue, horns blaring like impatient warnings, and we're five minutes late when we pull into the firm garage. No separate entrances today. We stride through the lobby together, her strides matching mine, polo untucked slightly at my hip and her ponytail listing askew.

Heads turn in the open-plan office. Mark's scowl from his desk, keyboards clacking in rhythm, but Elena just flashes a quick smile, fingers grazing my arm in passing. "Worth it," she whispers, heading to QA without looking back. I settle at my station, heart steadying, the dream's warmth lingering like a secret. The app stays silent in my pocket, sated for now, but Elena's glance across the partitions feels like the real power shift.