Faltershipping (Rebecca Hopkins/Ghost Kotsuzaka)
. . .
"God, you look like you haven't slept in days."
It was the usual greeting, followed by the usual shoving of a steaming mug of coffee into his hands.
"You know I hate this stuff," Kotsuzaka said, as always.
"Shut up and drink it, or start actually sleeping. And maybe take a bath while you're at it, your hair looks disgusting."
"You're one to talk."
Both of them knew that neither of them slept, but it was the game they played.
Rebecca sat on the back of the couch instead of on the seat with her coffee cupped against her chest and her everpresent scowl on her face, and he always sat across from her by the coffee table with his legs crossed under it, drinking the coffee even though it made his nose wrinkle. Would it kill her to put a little cream in it? (Every time he asked, she told him she only drank it black—like her soul. How extra.)
"Okay, so, what was the assignment, anyway?" he said, flipping open his notebook.
"Pay attention in class," she said, but she reached over to the table beside the nightstand and tossed her agenda at him. He didn't thank her. It wasn't what they did. He flipped it open and read over the careful, incredibly neat notes she had made that detailed the English assignment in full. For someone whose second language was Japanese, she was disgustingly fluent.
He tossed the book back to her and she just blocked it with her hand so that it would fall to the couch. She sipped her coffee while he started writing.
"How do you spell 'novel' in English."
"N-O-V-E-L."
"Got it."
"Is the group still on for DnD tonight?"
"Unless someone cancels."
"If Yako cancels again, I'm killing his character."
"Fair enough."
He asked her the spelling on a few more words, and once she finished her coffee she set the mug down and wandered over to read over what he had, fixing his grammar and giving him better translations of what he was trying to say.
Three hours passed before he finally got up, shoved his stuff back into his bag, and returned his empty mug to her.
"See you at game tonight."
"Don't go siccing any demigorgons on us."
"No promises."
"You're the worst DM ever."
He just flipped her off with a grin and she flipped him off back with a raising of her eyebrow and a smirk.
"Wash your hair or something before game," she said. "And take a nap. I know we call you Ghost but that doesn't mean you have to look like one."
"Yes mother."
She just rolled her eyes, and closed the door behind him.
Same as always.
. . .
A/N: Idk what to think about this and apparently someone ships it like wow. Next is Falseshipping (Strings x Cadeline).
