Whaaaaa! :D It is so cute!
“When I said I wanted something to read, this wasn’t what I had mind,” Sam said, looking up from the pile of books that Quorra had draped over him. Fuck, why did his leg have to be in a cast? It made his house-mates three hundred percent worse.
“Well, you didn’t specify,” Quorra said from the open kitchen, where she was mixing the egg wash for french toast with the precision of a chemist. Why were they having french toast? Because his painkiller had come with instructions to eat something when taking, and that happened to be Q’s favorite.
His protestations that it was two in the goddamn morning were met with a pat on the head. He had a feeling the books would be met with the same if she wasn’t distracted, even if the point had been to just have something to stare at until he could sleep.
“Do you want syrup or nutella?” Quorra called, a giggle in her voice as she snuck a glance over at him.
Sam looked sideways at Rinzler, who had taken custody of the prescription bottle when Sam had tried to take the damn pain pill earlier. Rinzler stared back, his chin resting on one hand, before he deliberately plucked a copy of The Martian Chronicles off the book pile.
“Someone has to keep you out of trouble,” Rinzler proclaimed. Sam groaned.
Kat, you are a national treasure. <3