"Hey Lucy, is Darcy in?" Jane asked Darcy's suitemate, coffee in hand.
"Yeah….but I suggest you don't go in there" Lucy winced. "It's not pretty."
"I imagine Darcy is as comely as ever. Is she ill?" Thor asked, making his way towards the whitewash door. He swung it open to reveal a disaster zone of textbooks, five hour energy bottles, and laundry strewn everywhere. Darcy glanced sluggishly at Thor. Her eyes were bloodshot and dark circles stretched halfway down her face. Thor's face went white.
"Jane! Hurry! Darcy is under some kind of spell."
Jane pushed Thor gently aside and held up the tray of coffee. "Hey my little undergrad, I got you a cinnamon latte. Why don't you take a break?"
"No breaks. Advanced Political Philosophy final. Sixteen Hours." Darcy whispered hoarsely, taking the steaming cup regardless.
"When was the last time you slept?"
"Slept?"
"Oh crap." Jane smacked her palm against her forehead. "Darcy…we've been over this. You need to sleep, it keeps your cognitive functions intact."
"I'll sleep when I'm dead!" Darcy screeched "Dead. Dead. John Locke died in 1704. Tabula Rasa. Writings directly influenced-" She stopped to sip her coffee. "I float in the air because of Voltaire. In the gutter I flow because of Rousseau."
"Jane, is she chanting incantations?" Thor asked Jane, highly concerned at the sight in front of him "I should call my brother for aid."
"It's called a mnemonic, it's a phrase that helps you remember things." Jane explained, plucking a stale cheerio out of Darcy's tangled hair. "Okay Darce, it's intervention time. When was the last time you showered?"
"Thursday."
"It's Monday…." Jane sighed, squeezing Darcy's shoulder.
Darcy's eyes burst into saucers. She grabbed her hair in her fists and gasped.
"Oh my GOD. Jane, the move! I forgot to pack! CRAP." She looked around, as if she hadn't registered the sheer level of mess surrounding her.
"And you came all this way…" Darcy groaned, slamming her head against the desk. "I'm the worst at things."
"I got this. Thor and I will pack, you take a shower. We'll all get dinner-"
"But-"
"No 'buts,' young lady. You look like hell." Jane ordered. "Now go. I want you to come out in twenty minutes smelling like strawberry body scrub and toothpaste."
"Aye Aye captain" Darcy yawned, standing stiffly and hobbling to the bathroom.
"Oh, hi!" Darcy squealed at an exhausted, pajama clad Jane leaned on the door frame, mumbling incoherent noises.
"Sorry, did I wake you up?" She bubbled "I'm still on my finals sleep schedule, and, MAN, am I wired. What time is it? Like, 3:00 in the morning? I can't tell anymore. Want some pop tarts? I love pop tarts when I can't sleep!"
"mmphrg…" Jane murmured, rubbing her eyes. Darcy sprinted across Jane's apartment to the laundry closet as the washing machine buzzed.
"My whites are done. Do you know that the best time to do your laundry at college is in the middle of the night? You have your pick of washers, the place has just been swept, and the trash is completely empty!"
"Thor…" Jane garbled, banging her head against the wall.
"So I was thinking about getting a second job." Darcy continued. "The internship is great and all, but now that I'm done with school I have the time to get something with pay. I was SO broke by the end of last year that I used a stolen scented candle instead of deodorant. Any thoughts?"
"THOR…!" Jane groaned as the sleepy demigod emerged from their bedroom.
"Hey, big guy, fancy seeing you up! Want some pop tarts? Wait-WHAT-" Without a word, a groggy Thor picked Darcy up and threw her over his shoulder, plopping her into her bed and locking the door. Darcy jiggled the knob and banged on the wood, cursing violently. Jane shuffled back to the toaster, grabbing the fresh pop tarts in a paper towel.
"Great to have you home, hun…"
A little drabble inspired by my recent death-fest of finals, and a recent Gilmore Girls marathon