every bone in iona’s body has sunken into this want to do nothing more than stay on the sofa with mim. she lays half-off of it, too, one leg dangling off the side. mim receives the majority of the space, and iona is more than okay with that. she doesn’t need more than what she already has.

     iona wants to stay asleep, but the smell of a new pot of coffee and that feeling that someone is burning a hole into them with their gaze has her peeling one eye open. moe stares back at them with a widened gaze.

     “go away,” iona mouths. moe shakes her head, points, and half-whispers:

     “who is she?”

     “none of your business.” she waves on hand in the lame hope of warding moe off.

     “i just was wondering--”