Day 5: "Oh, no, you're a morning person!"
Brighter than the Sun
By circumstances not of his own fault, Bobby's apartment building burned down. It was a story for another day, a stressful one at that, but it resulted in him moving into Chloe's apartment. It was a step forward in their relationship. At first, he worried, fearing his presence would soon be worn out, but Chloe wasn't tired at all. She wanted him with her, and his heart felt like it grew three sizes larger like the Grinch discovering the meaning of Christmas.
He had properly settled in a week after living with her. Her routine was intimately familiar to him, as they had often spent both days and nights at each other's homes. Bobby knew what to expect, but as his eyes blinked open, he believed something was off.
It was bright, blindingly so. As his senses jarred to life, he flinched and tugged the thin blanket over his eyes. (She preferred thick comforters; he had grown up with a flimsy sheet, leaving neither to worry about stolen blankets in the middle of the night.) Although covered, light bled through and warmed his skin. It burned the last remnants of sleep from his body. He pressed a groan to the roof of his mouth, poking his head out and finding the bed notably empty. The midnight blue fleece and cotton comforters on Chloe's side of the bed were made. Her pillows were fluffed and straightened. It was like looking at a properly made hotel bed.
He sat up and automatically reached for his bedside table, grabbing his glasses. Setting them on his face, he was presented with clarity. Chloe was already awake. He heard quiet chatter from the television in the living room, news broadcasters discussing the overnight happenings.
But then, his gaze fell on the alarm clock. He cocked his head, transfixed. Bewilderment drained him. He thought he was reading it incorrectly, so he took off his glasses, rubbed the fingerprinted lenses on his blanket, and put them back on.
In a sharp scarlet hue, the numbers seven, four, and five in that order taunted him.
Bobby had never seen that time together so early in the morning, not since he was running late for high school. Dumbfounded, he threaded his fingers through his long hair, untangling a few knots with a slight tug. Slowly, he crawled out of bed, dressed in a pair of loose sweatpants. He went for the door only to pause, glancing at his unmade side of the bed, and he quickly folded the blanket to match Chloe's comforters.
He crept down the hallway, listening to the canned laughter from the anchors. Standing in the doorway, he found Chloe sitting on the couch. She was dressed in a pair of slate jeans and a jet black tank top, his tank top, he realized, heart skipping a beat. She held her ceramic mug of coffee, the vapors wafting around her head as she gingerly sipped, her breakfast already eaten with only crumbs on the plate.
Noticing him, Chloe did a double take. Pleasant surprise etched on her features as she said, "Well, good morning, Bobby. I would've made you breakfast, but I thought you'd still be asleep."
Shuffling into the room, he slouched forward on the back of the couch. His arms dangled against the cushion. His back popped as he stretched, fiery tresses falling down his cheeks. Chloe was quick to clip them behind his ears, still grinning at him.
Deciding to act like a person, Bobby straightened and leaned into the armrest on Chloe's side. "Mornin'. You're up, uh, really early."
"I am."
"But it's Saturday."
She paused. She glanced at her coffee. Then, she raised her eyebrows at him, expecting an explanation.
Snaking his hand behind his neck, he said, "You got, I dunno, three hours of sleep."
Chloe tilted her head, a small smile on her lips. "True but I'm rested."
He found that hard to accept. Last night, they were kicking their feet up watching horrible sci-fi horror movies until dawn. Chloe was criticizing every aspect she disdained, her playful fury earning Bobby's laughter. He hadn't been able to keep his hands off her, restless and in love as he was, leaving him exhausted by the time they finally settled into bed.
But Chloe acted as if she had gotten a full eight hours of sleep. There wasn't any hint of haggardness. No dark circles, no yawning, nothing that would indicate she was tired. If anything, just looking at Bobby, somewhat sluggish and fighting the urge to go back to bed, should've made her want to retire as well.
Chloe hummed, tucking her legs on the couch. "You must understand, Bobby, that I've gotten along well with only a few hours of sleep on specific days. Why do you think that is?"
His mind, still somewhat bleary, produced a childish answer. "'Cause…you're an alien?"
She snickered. "Good guess but no. There's a natural reason for it."
He took a moment to think. She cocked her head forward, still smiling. She expected him to know the answer. Now that he stared at her, it was obvious. It had been the answer since they were campers and had followed Chloe into adulthood.
"Oh, no, you're a morning person," Bobby cried, and Chloe laughed, putting her face in her hands. He cupped his mouth, index finger rapidly tapping his nose. He was a late sleeper whenever he won the battle against his insomnia, and he enjoyed his slumber, lazy days passing him by without a care in the world.
But one look at the glow on Chloe's face told him otherwise. She was brighter than the sunshine. She beamed, shining, hotter than the fiercest star in more ways than he could say in one breath. Chloe was always that one; he just hadn't seen it so early in the morning, the notion bringing a lopsided smile to his face.
Sighing, Chloe leaned into the couch cushion. "And the more you get up early, the more productive you'll be during the day."
"On our days off?"
She lightly bumped her elbow against his forearm. "As much as you like snoring until noon, I believe you'll like waking up early at your own pace."
He gawked, her explanation sailing over his head. Focusing on a horrifying realization, he squeaked out, "I snore?"
"Only sometimes, particularly when you're in an incredibly heavy sleep, which you've done since Whispering Rock."
Bobby nudged her back. "Yeah, you would remember that."
It was a fact jotted down in a spiral notebook she kept safely stored in her various files. Chloe looked a tad smug, fully deserved, in his opinion. He rolled his shoulders back, stretching his arms to the ceiling and groaning. Opening up his muscles, he sighed and flipped stray hairs over his shoulders, ready to face the morning.
Sinking his thumbs into his pockets, he said, "Well, guess I'll be a productive member of society by, uh, showering and dressing nice."
"When you're done, I'll have your breakfast ready."
"Thanks, Chloe. Love you."
"I love you, too." When he leaned closer, she promptly set her finger to his lips. "No kissing until your morning breath is gone."
"Wh-? I have that, too?"
"Everyone does. No need to worry."
He barked out a laugh and ran his fingers through her short curls. Pivoting on his heels, the room briefly spinning around him, he shuffled toward the bathroom.
"This is your home, too, you know. Don't feel like you need to abide by what I say."
Her voice drew him back. Bobby looked over his shoulder, smirking. "I know, but it's better being awake with you."
And he was right about Chloe being more luminous than the stars when she flashed another smile at him.
