[ Is the only thing she can really respond with, to that. She lets Peter show himself out of her apartment, and she somehow manages to make her way over to the door after he closes it behind himself to stand on her tiptoes and look through the peephole as he goes back into his own apartment. It's only then that she lets out a huge sigh, locking her door and turning around, her back slumping against it until she essentially melts into a curled heap on on the floor, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead there.
Way to freaking go, Kasumi.
She eventually manages to haul herself to her actual bed, and not her couch--there really wouldn't have been an excuse for sleeping on the couch instead, since she lives in a studio--and if there's anything she's thankful for tall that alcohol for, it's that it lets her fall fast asleep once her head hits the pillow.
Come morning, she sleeps in later than she usually would, given that it's a Saturday after an exhausting (in one way or another) Friday night, but she does still get up before noon, because that's the sort of thing that's been hard-wired into her system. And--she has one hell of a headache, but she knows just the cure for that.
Pancakes.
And she excites herself into the idea to the extent that she mindlessly grabs her phone with a mind to shoot Peter a text (something she does even though he lives literally twenty feet away):
Hey neighbor! I'm gonna make pancakes. You in?
--But it's staring down at her message that she starts thinking about what transpired last night, and for the first time possibly ever, Kasumi's. A little embarrassed. Is this text too peppy and casual considering she basically asked him to kiss her like some desperate teenager or a helpless woman in a lame chick flick?
no subject
[ Is the only thing she can really respond with, to that. She lets Peter show himself out of her apartment, and she somehow manages to make her way over to the door after he closes it behind himself to stand on her tiptoes and look through the peephole as he goes back into his own apartment. It's only then that she lets out a huge sigh, locking her door and turning around, her back slumping against it until she essentially melts into a curled heap on on the floor, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead there.
Way to freaking go, Kasumi.
She eventually manages to haul herself to her actual bed, and not her couch--there really wouldn't have been an excuse for sleeping on the couch instead, since she lives in a studio--and if there's anything she's thankful for tall that alcohol for, it's that it lets her fall fast asleep once her head hits the pillow.
Come morning, she sleeps in later than she usually would, given that it's a Saturday after an exhausting (in one way or another) Friday night, but she does still get up before noon, because that's the sort of thing that's been hard-wired into her system. And--she has one hell of a headache, but she knows just the cure for that.
Pancakes.
And she excites herself into the idea to the extent that she mindlessly grabs her phone with a mind to shoot Peter a text (something she does even though he lives literally twenty feet away):
Hey neighbor! I'm gonna make pancakes. You in?
--But it's staring down at her message that she starts thinking about what transpired last night, and for the first time possibly ever, Kasumi's. A little embarrassed. Is this text too peppy and casual considering she basically asked him to kiss her like some desperate teenager or a helpless woman in a lame chick flick?
The text she ends up sending him simply reads:
Pancakes? ]