Caoimhe's internal alarm clock awoke her with a start, her body simply refusing to sleep any longer. Her head was pounding with a hangover, and she could feel her temples throb.

Caoimhe gently lifted the arm wrapped around her, trying to get out of the bed as quietly as she could. Once she was free, she gently set Clay's arm back down and smiled softly at his sleeping form.

She bent down, picking his shirt up off the ground and pulling it on, opening the bedroom door and escaping into the kitchen. The door was left cracked, just in case.

Drew was reffing a soccer tournament all day, they'd been bragging about the paycheck they were gonna get for a week. That meant the apartment was all Caoimhe's and Clay's. All theirs.

Her legs were getting cold with the loss of her heavy comforter, but Caoimhe opened the fridge anyway, deciding to make breakfast. It was a cheesy cliche, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

She grabbed a pack of bacon and started heating up a burner on the stove. The smell of bacon instantly flooded the apartment. Caoimhe stood back to avoid getting splattered by grease, starting the coffee maker while she waited for everything to cook.

It took another ten minutes for Clay to wake up. Caoimhe had finished and cleaned up after the bacon and was starting to flip pancakes when she heard the familiar creaks of someone walking around.

Clay hugged her from behind seconds later, burying his head into her neck and mumbling something. His breath tickled on her skin.

Caoimhe turned to kiss the top of his head as a greeting. "Huh?"

"" He repeated more clearly, yawning.

"Oh really?"

"We have a cockroach under the sink named Maurice. I think he'll make do." She joked, flipping another pancake.

Clay squeezed extra tight before finally letting go, opening the cabinet to pull out two coffee mugs. He poured them both coffee, giving Caoimhe her signature peppermint creamer overload. It was only then that she realized he was just in the plaid pajama pants he left for whenever he stayed the night.

"How's your head?" She asked as she took a sip, giving him a thumbs up in approval.

Clay groaned. "."

"That bad?" He nodded. "I have pain relievers behind the bathroom mirror. I'll get you some."

Clay downed them with his coffee. Caoimhe turned the stove off and got out two plates, setting them down on the counter. They both began to pile food on to their plates.

"." He said in between bites, practically inhaling his food.

"Are you eating a pancake like a taco?"

" Clay explained as if it was obvious before shoving more food into his mouth.

Caoimhe watched with a mixture of a horror and fascination on her face. She forgot he was only twenty-one sometimes. This was definitely not one of those times. He was the textbook definition of it at the moment.

She predicted that in about ten minutes, it would all come back up again. He was eating too much, too quickly, on a system that wasn't ready for that yet. Caoimhe made no move to stop him, and just simply watched.

Caoimhe got dressed while Clay brushed his teeth for the third time, still not able to get rid of the taste of vomit. She braided her hair and did her eyeliner as she listened to him cough like he had a hairball.

"Done yet?' She called.

"!" Clay yelled back, the telltale sounds of the sink turning on echoing down the hall.

"Ok!" Caoimhe would let him brush his teeth as many times as he wanted; she would not be kissing someone with puke breath. No matter how cute he was.

"?" Clay asked, leaning against the doorway, staring at her.

Caoimhe rolled her eyes playfully. "We have to go pick up Nick's car from where we left it."

"?!" He sounded genuinely offended.

"I can't just wear your shirt out."

"What the fuck?" She hoped he was kidding.

He cracked a smile. He was kidding.

Nevermind.

"How about YOU put some clothes on, hippie." Caoimhe snorted, throwing him his shirt and a pair of jeans that had been thrown and left on the floor for at least two weeks. She couldn't remember exactly.

Clay got dressed and fixed his hair, making sure to show Caoimhe just how minty his breath was. She tried four times, but couldn't find anything wrong with it, Clay smirking triumphantly

They ordered an uber to go pick up Nick's car, turning the temperature back up to 73 so the Texan wouldn't throw a hissy fit, and then messed with the driver's seat adjustments so he would.

Caoimhe made no less than seven puns about how the morning must have been a 'Dream' come true for him, and Clay nearly jumped out of the car on the busy highway. That was the intended effect, so she considered herself successful on that front.