This takes place a couple of hours after their first meeting. They're still idiots, by the way.
Painted Lines and Boundaries
Her alarm was going off and it was, indeed, alarming. Madeline groaned and covered her face with a pillow. She just wanted to sleep, was that so much to ask?
"Ugh." She slammed down on the 'snooze' button.
"Tell me about it."
Madeline paused with one hand still on her alarm clock. Someone… Was in her bed…
She pulled the pillow down and blinked.
Oh. Right. Her new roommate.
Gillian sat up and yawned, stretching her arms above her head. Her camisole had bunched up around her stomach and her bare legs went on for miles.
Madeline could see her panties. They were lime green.
"You."
"Me," Gillian agreed, nodding. Her ponytail was lopsided.
"Weren't you…?"
"I live here now," she interrupted.
"Yes, I remember that part," Madeline sighed. She tried to run her hands through her hair but it was a lost cause. "But I cleared a spot on the couch for you last night."
"This morning, you mean."
"And thank you again for that…"
Gillian threw herself into Madeline's lap and rolled around, kicking her feet and pounding her fists like a child.
"But it smelled like paint in theeere, and I wanted to sleep with yooou!" She turned over so that she was looking up and tugged on Madeline's curls with nimble fingers. Madeline bent over and her curtain of hair created a private world, just for them.
She really was a beautiful woman, if a little odd. Her mannerisms were large and expressive and she hummed with barely restrained energy. She was a bit thin, a little rough and tumble, but it suited her.
Madeline bit her lip and tried not to laugh as Gillian continued to throw a tantrum.
"But this is my bed," Madeline pointed out.
"Our bed."
"No, my bed."
Gillian pouted, and it was a practiced expression, if her quivering lip and fluttering eyelashes were anything to go by; practiced and perfected.
"But it was cold out there," she gestured to the den, "and it smelled like paint, and you weren't there, and I was alone, and I hate being alone, but you were warm and in here and so now I'm here too."
Madeline frowned.
"But…"
"We should have pancakes. Pancakes are great. We should have them."
Gillian was the most manic and unpredictable person that Madeline had ever met but she made a good point…. Pancakes were great.
"I guess we could…" Madeline started running through ingredients in her head, checking them off. Gillian carried on.
"Before your, uhm, what was it again?" Gillian tapped her chin in thought. "Oh yeah, your 'practicum'… Your test... Thing. When is that, by the way?"
Madeline looked up with wide eyes.
Her… Practicum…? Oh shit!
She bounded to her feet and jostled the bed, pulling the blankets with her. Gillian toppled over and giggled.
"Oh no, what time is it?"
"Uh, eight. It's eight. In the morning."
"Fuck!"
Madeline leapt off the bed and scrambled for her clothes. She shrugged on a sweater that she may or may not have worn last week and jumped into her jeans. She hopped around her bedroom on one foot.
Gillian sprawled across the bed and watched her.
"So… No pancakes then?"
"No!"