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Please note that this story is entirely fictional - all characters, locations, and situations are completely made up and nothing in this story has any direct analogue to real life.
I awoke to the sound of my alarm clock buzzing - and a headache. I solved one annoyance by tapping the screeching device on my nightstand and tried to alleviate the other by rubbing my temples with one hand and reaching for the half-empty glass beside my clock, which was flashing 7:00. It didn't help much, as I knew it wouldn't. I don't often get headaches but when I do they're slow and deep and last for days. With a sigh of resignation I got up from my bed and stumbled over to the bathroom to start my morning routine.
Now I don't want to brag too much - but I will. I've got a freakin' sweet bathroom. It's huge (about the size of my master bedroom) and sports a separate shower and bathtub, a little stall for the toilet, a small closet, and two sinks side-by-side with a massive mirror over both of them. The bathtub itself is a monster at a little over 6 feet in length, which is just long enough for me to completely lay down in it. The only things my bathroom is missing are a wall-mounted TV and a mini fridge.
Unfortunately, my lobbies to include them when the bathroom was being customized were vehemently shut down by my girlfriend. Some lame excuse about my never leaving the bathroom if they were added, or something. At least I was able to push through the surround sound speakers.
The bathroom was already occupied with the shower running, but that would just be Sierra, my girlfriend of 4 years, getting ready for her day as well. Paying no mind to the closed door I went in and availed myself of the toilet, remembering not to flush so as not to cut off the hot water in the shower, and began to brush my teeth and shave. Eventually the flow of water cut off and I could hear faint humming emanating from the shower stall. Eager for a hot shower that usually helped with my headaches, I began pulling off my clothing so I could hop right in. The shower door slid back and the occupant stepped out.
Tall, just a few inches shorter than me, she had long, velvety red hair that was pasted flat to her well-toned body, a flawlessly light complexion, and startling blue eyes. She was gorgeous. She also wasn't my girlfriend.
"Claire!" I sputtered, trying to quickly put my clothes back on. Claire jumped in surprise, nearly slipping and falling down, and finished wrapping her towel around herself.
"Morning Eric," she said as her face became slightly redder than the hot water had made it. "Sorry to surprise you like this, I was hoping I'd be done and gone by the time you woke up. Sierra said I could shower here since, you know."
Oh. Right. With the shock wearing off, my mind was able to rise above my stupid headache and draw from my memories. Claire was an old friend from high school and was staying with Sierra and I for a couple weeks. We did have another bathroom but the shower wasn't working and though I knew what needed to be done, I just hadn't had a chance to fix it yet. Sierra also would have left for work at least half an hour ago. These were all things I should have remembered from the start.
Shaking my head and rubbing my face wearily, I backed away toward the door and said, "No it's cool. I'm just still half-asleep and not thinking, I'll get out of your way."
Claire smirked and walked delicately across the large room, wet feet making slight pattering noises on the tiles. "Well it's too late for that now, since you're blocking my only exit. A less trusting girl would think you were trying to catch her when she was vulnerable."
"I think a less trusting girl would be right," I replied, matching her smirk and standing aside in the doorway so she could brush past me, "but doing so with you is a fool's errand since you're never vulnerable."
"Oh I wouldn't say that," Claire said as she paused at the bedroom door, "at least not by accident." She waved and closed the door before I could say anything else.
I turned back to the shower and removed my clothes, smiling at her words. Claire was still in college, like me, and a drama major, unlike me. She was very good at acting, which is why her comment about intentional vulnerability was mostly true. She was also very good at putting people at ease, despite her stunning looks, which was why I had been able to verbally spar with her so soon after being surprised. It also helped that we'd been friends for years.
Turning on the hot water and letting it run down over me, I closed my eyes and spent a minute picturing the split second when I had been able to see all of Claire, before she'd gotten the towel around herself. I might be in a happy, long-term relationship with a gorgeous woman of my own, but I sure wasn't blind.
I got to my first class just before 8, and was finished by noon. That gave me just enough time to have a quick lunch and start my shift at the music emporium. I'm majoring in English, with just a year left to go, which is good because there is a shortage of English teachers at the high schools around me. Someone like me would be welcomed to the school system - as long as I have a degree. I know I know, it doesn't make a lot of money. But teaching sounds pretty cool to me and I'm totally okay with Sierra bringing in the lion's share of the income with her already surprisingly well-established career as an event planner.
Anyways, it was a pretty average day overall with the exception of my persisting headache. I could forget about it for a while, but it was always there vying for my attention and dampened what would otherwise have been a pretty good mood. I arrived home a little after 7:30. My house is a moderately sized single story suburban place with 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, lots of windows, a spacious kitchen and living room and a backyard just big enough for the patio and pool. It really belongs to my parents, but they let Sierra and I live here on the condition that we not wreck the place. And we do our best to live up to our promises - at least on the days when we have no worldly obligations and the place to ourselves. Those days generally involve little clothing and lots of repetitive noises.
I walked in the door and immediately smelled my favorite meal - lasagna. I've had all kinds of lasagnas in my life and while many have been good, Sierra's are by far the best. Or rather, my mom's lasagnas are the best and Sierra managed to convince her to give her the recipe. It wasn't unusual for Sierra to cook, she's pretty good with most things she tries, but it's not often she goes through the trouble to make my favorite lasagna. She must have heard me come through the garage door, because she met me on the way to the kitchen and said "Hey honey," as she stretched up on her tiptoes to give me a quick kiss on the mouth and then wrapped her petite figure around me in a full-bodied hug, snuggling her face into my chest.
Sierra is a little under 5 and a half feet tall, has long, hard-to-control frizzy blond hair, a perfect sun tan and a well-kept and slight figure. Her eyes are a perfect deep brown that are easy to get lost in for immeasurable lengths of time.
When she pulls back from our hug, I can see she has let her hair loose from its usual tight ponytail and that she's wearing an apron along with her work clothes from the day - a smart blue business suit and skirt that I love to see her in because it shows off her curves in all the right ways - though she is barefoot. "Hey Ser Bear," I replied, using the nickname I'd given her because of the way her unruly hair makes her look on its worst days. For some reason she'd threatened to shave my wavy, light brown awesomeness if I ever used her nickname in public.
