There were a lot of things Caoimhe could complain about in Clay's house. You could practically see the single man aura floating off of every single decoration (or lack thereof).

But there was one thing she would never dare badmouth, and that was his couch.

If his couch was a person, she'd marry it. Caoimhe loved Clay's couch.

Clay was forced to sit on the ottoman as she stretched out, laying her head on the one throw pillow he owned. She could just tell his mother had bought it as a house warming present, and that he wouldn't have thought to have one otherwise.

Some ABC game show was playing on tv, even though neither one of them was paying attention. Clay was staring at his phone, Caoimhe was thinking about how much she loved the couch.

Considering that the one back in her apartment had been found by Drew on the side of the road three years prior, any couch was better than theirs. But this couch specifically, was just- wow.

"?" He finally snapped.

"No." She answered simply, running her hand against the fabric softly.

Clay put his phone down on the ottoman and stood up, shoving his arms under her knees and behind her back and picking Caoimhe up, promptly dumping her on the floor of the other side of the room.

He turned and looked her dead in the eye as he laid down on the couch, taking up all the space.

"NO!" Caoimhe flinched back, her heart already starting to hurt.

"." Clay stuck his tongue out childishly. Caoimhe crossed her arms and harrumphed.

His phone started to ring on the ottoman, and Caoimhe reached over and snatched it away before he could pick it up.

She checked Caller ID. "Oh, it's just a robo-call." She declined the message, sending the phone back to his lockscreen.

Caoimhe glanced at it, turned it off, realized what she saw, and turned it back on. She looked from Clay to the photo, then back to Clay.

"Why the hell is that your lock screen?"

It was one of her melted brain photos. One eye was shut and her mouth was open and you could see Clay's reflection in the glasses. It was horrible.

" !" He argued, not moving from the couch. ""

Caoimhe pulled out her phone, flashing him the screen. Clay squinted at it, trying to read through all the little cracks.

"It's my biggest achievement."

Caoimhe glared at him. He held his hands up like he was innocent. She glared some more.

"You just lost couch privileges, get up."

Clay scoffed. "."

"Well duh. But you also totally did lose couch privileges with that statement." Caoimhe stood up and walked over, trying to drag him off the couch by his armpits.

Clay draped his hand over his forehead dramatically. ""

Caoimhe stopped immediately. "Girlfriend?!"

Clay looked at her like she was crazy. "."

"Since when was I your girlfriend?!"

Clay sat up, furrowing his eyebrows. ""

"You never asked me to be your girlfriend!"

"You fucking dumbass!" She groaned, rubbing her eyes exasperatedly. "Of course you have to ask!"

"" He was starting to gesture around wildly with his hands as he talked, Caoimhe ducking back so she didn't get poked with a pinky.

"NOTHING is understood until it's stated plainly!"

"" Caoimhe raised an eyebrow at him until he added, "!"

"Yes." She smiled softly. "I will be your girlfriend. And you'll be my boyfriend."

Caoimhe leaned up to kiss him, holding his cheek in her hand. He leaned into it as he kissed back sweetly.

There. That was how someone asked you to be their girlfriend.

" Clay promised, unable to keep a grin off of his face.

"That's not hard, the bar is pretty low." She joked.

"." He silenced her with another kiss, tucking her hair behind her ears as she got up on the couch next to him. "."

Caoimhe leaned her head on his shoulder, absentmindedly tracing little circles onto his chest as she watched the television. Clay pressed little kisses on top of her head, as if reassuring himself that it was real. His arm was wrapped tightly around her as they lay there, legs propped up on the ottoman in front of them.

And so, when Caoimhe woke up the next morning, drool drying on the corners of her mouth, head still on Bartholomew's shoulder, and legs stiff from being unbent for so long, she only reaffirmed her love for the couch. Clay's arm was still around her, his head thrown back as he snored quietly, and a blanket had been very carefully draped over them, courtesy of Nick at some point. She didn't know when they had fallen asleep.

Caoimhe really, really, really loved that goddamn couch. And with moments like that, she could see how it loved her back.

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we're almost to the end :)))