Scrapped

I started a novel about five or so years ago. This got cut, but I thought it was kind of cute. Character names have been changed in case I ever go back to writing this one. 



I curled up on Parker's couch with my iced coffee and the oversized comforter he kept in the living room, waiting for him to wake up. I gazed out the white window frame, taking in the city morning. The crinkled leaves of early November swirled lazily around quick feet and street signs while a slight fog floated over the Charles river as the honking of car horns made a little song of impatience. 

My city watch ended when I heard,

"Bridget? You still here?" 

"On the couch!" I replied. 

I grabbed the TV remote off the end table and queued up the movie, then headed to the kitchen to pour Parker some coffee. I met him in his bedroom doorway. He had on thick socks and grey sweatpants, no shirt, and was fervently rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake up. I grinned and kissed his cheek good morning, then handed him his drink. 

"Thanks," he murmured. 

I steered him to the couch,

"You're welcome. Now that you're up, this is The Big Lebowski!" I pressed play, and Parker shook his head, laughing as he got comfortable. I wrapped us in the comforter, and we settled in.


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