A/N: That awkward moment when you realize that you named Stacie's roommate after the actress that plays Stacie. I wasn't even thinking about it, I just threw a name in.
EDIT: I changed her name to Paige. Just so no one gets confused.

Anyways, thanks so much for the reviews, I love it! Keep them coming!

Her Ankle

"Ouch!" Stacie winced, trying not to move while Donald wrapped an ace bandage around her ankle. She had twisted her ankle climbing the stairs to his floor while wearing her Bellas heels, which she hadn't bothered to change on her way from rehearsal to his room. Donald tried not to laugh as he clipped the bandage together with small metal hooks, but Stacie could tell he was amused. She glared at him, her arms crossed. "It's not funny," she insisted.

"No, but you are," Donald answered, straightening up. Stacie looked so annoyed and so cute that he couldn't help it. He sat down next to her on the bed and put his arms around her, giving her a kiss that ended up lasting longer than he had originally planned. When he finally pulled away from her, he asked, "Do you still want to watch a movie?"

"Yes," Stacie answered. She shifted on his bed and lifted her leg carefully to put her injured ankle on one of Donald's pillows. Donald grabbed his laptop and a stack of movies and got comfortable beside her.

"What do you want to watch?" he asked, holding out the movies so she could look through them.

"You pick," Stacie said, folding her arms across her chest again.

"Okay," Donald said, putting in the first one he grabbed.

"Batman?" Stacie asked, finally cracking a smile.

"Hey, it's a good movie," Donald answered, nudging her.

"If you say so."

Donald put his arm around her again, and she leaned her head against his chest. It had been barely two weeks since the Riff-Off, but they had spent almost every night together since. Donald should have felt smothered by now, but he didn't. He figured Stacie should have been done with him by now, but she wasn't. The fact that most of their relationships consisted of one-night stands was something that the two of them had in common. This particular one-night stand, however, had developed into something else.

Stacie let out a sigh, bringing Donald back to earth. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"My ankle hurts," she grumbled.

"Do you want some aspirin?"

"Nah," Stacie said. "I'll suck it up. But seriously, what the hell is going on in this movie?"

"If you paid attention, you'd understand," he teased.

"Unlikely."

"Why not?"

Stacie sat up and gave him a pointed look. "Do I really need to spell it out?" She tried to stretch up to kiss him, but the pain in her ankle prevented her from succeeding. Donald leaned down to help her out. Not much more than a simple kiss was possible because of Stacie's ankle, but he would take what he could get. This time, Stacie was the one that broke the kiss and she sighed. "Let's just watch the movie."

Stacie still looked upset about her ankle, so Donald tried to cheer her up by imitating Batman's annoying, raspy voice. It might not have cured her mood, but it at least got her to laugh. When the movie was over, he put his laptop on his desk and changed into a pair of black pajama pants. He tossed his shirt to Stacie, who struggled to sit up. She tossed her own skin-tight shirt to the floor, along with her shorts and bra, and pulled Donald's warm, grey t-shirt over her head. She pulled her hair out of the collar and fell back onto the pillows again.

Donald pulled the blankets over her and turned out the light before crawling in beside her. They faced each other, and Donald slipped his arms around her waist. "What are you thinking about?" Stacie asked.

"You." He could see the faint glow of a smile, and Stacie rested her head against his chest again. "How beautiful you are."

"Shut up," Stacie laughed, her voice muffled.

"I mean it," Donald said, and he did. "What about you?"

"Regionals," Stacie said after a few seconds.

"Scared we're gonna beat you?" Donald said tauntingly.

"As if," Stacie answered. "I just hope my ankle is better by then."

"It will be," Donald assured it, "It's not a bad sprain." He paused for a moment, and then asked, "What set are you doing this year?"

Stacie hesitated, then decided that there was no reason she shouldn't tell him; it wasn't as if the Trebles would steal their set. "You can't tell anyone," Stacie warned, "Or I'll have to kill you."

"Got it."

"Aubrey's making us do the same set they did at the ICCAs last year," Stacie said.

"Seriously?" Donald asked, surprised. "Why would Aubrey want to relive that?"

Stacie shrugged, her shoulders bumping against his chest. "It's boring," she complained. "Beca's right, we're not going to win with it."

"You're not," Donald agreed. "Beca clearly knows better than Aubrey."

"It's lucky we have Beca around," Stacie said.

"Why?"

"Aubrey's so caught up in making sure Beca isn't seeing Jesse behind her back, no one's paying any attention to me."

"Oh, right. You're not allowed to see me," Donald snorted.

"I think Aubrey might kick me out just for talking to you, honestly," Stacie said. "It's so stupid. But you already got one girl kicked out."

"What?" Donald asked, confused.

"Kori?" Stacie clarified. "The girl you met at the 'initiation' party?"

"Oh, her."

"Yeah." There was silence, and then, "So you did sleep with her?"

It was his turn to be silent. He tried to gauge what her reaction might be, but couldn't. Finally, he said, "Yes."

Stacie laughed, as if she could tell that he was afraid of how she would respond. Her laugh was adorable. "You can do whatever you want," she informed him. "It's not like we're dating."

There was a slightly awkward moment as they both wondered what exactly they were, but Stacie seemed to be more interested in moving the conversation forward. "Would you tell me something?"

"What?"

"Tell me about you. Anything," she whispered, shifting closer. She moved her head from his chest to the pillow so she could see him in the faint moonlight that slanted through his window.

"Like what?"

Stacie searched her mind for something, and said the first thing that she thought of. "Where do you live?"

"A few hours from here," he said, "In Savannah."

"Really?" Stacie asked, surprised. "Didn't you want to get away?"

"I figured this was good enough. My parents aren't going to want to drive four hours to see me every weekend, so I'm as safe here as I would be in California."

"I'm from Florida," Stacie said. "Tallahassee."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope," Stacie said. "I'm an only child. What about you?"

"I've got three little sisters," Donald said. "They're the most annoying creatures on the face of the planet."

"But you love them," Stacie said with confidence.

"Yeah, I guess I do," Donald said.

"How old are they?"

"Nineteen, fifteen, and twelve."

"Does your sister go to school here?" Stacie asked.

"No," Donald answered. "Good thing she doesn't, or my parents would be calling me all the time. 'What is your sister doing? Are you watching her? Make sure she doesn't get into trouble.'"

"Did they do that a lot before you left?"

"All the time," Donald groaned. "I could hardly do anything."

"Ah, the joys of being an only child," Stacie teased. "I never had to watch out for anyone but myself."

"That sounds kind of lonely."

"It wasn't. I had a ton of friends, so I never needed siblings."

"Little Miss Popularity," Donald joked. "Let me guess, you were Homecoming Queen?"

"No, I was not Homecoming Queen," Stacie huffed. "… But I was Prom Queen."

"Of course you were," Donald laughed.

"What's so bad about being Prom Queen?" Stacie demanded.

"Nothing," Donald answered. "It's just typical."

Stacie ignored this and asked her next question. "How many girlfriends did you have in high school?"

"Just one," Donald said. Guessing what Stacie's next question would be, he added, "Her name is Kara, I haven't talked to her since the end of our Junior year when she moved, and she's not as pretty as you."

Stacie couldn't help smiling. "That's nice to know," she said, and Donald could hear the satisfaction in her voice.

"Your turn," Donald said, poking her.

"Four," Stacie said reluctantly.

"Was the last one your Prom King?"

Stacie glared at him. "Yes."

Donald snickered.

"Why is that so funny?" Stacie demanded.

"Sorry, I just think that stuff is dumb. I didn't even go to my prom."

"You didn't go to prom?!"

"Nope."

"Couldn't get a date?"

"Didn't want one."

"Everyone wants to go to prom!"

"Not me."

Stacie shook her head in disbelief, but didn't say anything else. When she had been quiet for almost five minutes, Donald asked, "No more questions?"

"Oh, I have more questions," Stacie said. "Just not tonight."

She moved as close to him as she could and kissed him. He held her tightly, but didn't move; he didn't want to hurt her ankle. Despite this, she fell back onto the pillow with a hiss. "Go to sleep," Donald told her. "It'll feel better in the morning."

"It better," Stacie said darkly, carefully snuggling against his chest. She fell asleep quickly, leaving Donald alone with his thoughts. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, the scent of her shampoo taking over his senses. It smelled strongly of apples, a fruit he knew he would associate with her from now on.

The last thing he thought before he finally fell asleep was that he hoped her ankle was better the next day.

A/N: I attempted to make this one longer, but it's still pretty short. Sorry about that! I also decided to go ahead and try Donald's POV. I thought it came out pretty good, but let me know how you feel about it! Please leave me a review? I'll try to update again soon!

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