#salrizzo

@salrizzo

The room devoid of light as it was, you would never be able to tell it was nearly noon if not for the alarm clock that lay on it’s side, having been knocked off the bedside table at one point or another (either out of frustration or Marley having been bent over it, hard to tell). The darkness was a stark contrast to the sun that’d flooded through the kitchen Marley had just occupied, desperate for a started pot of coffee with her head pounding the way it was. Even the chewing of her cereal was too loud for the woman to handle, pausing her eating as she merely admired Rizzo from her spot in the doorway, outstretched in their unmade bed. Despite the headache, the sight of them brought a smile to her face, having always thought they looked most peaceful when asleep. That peacefulness didn’t mean enough to Marley to keep her from padding her way over to them, however, and quickly situating herself to straddle their sleeping form, knees tucked into either side of their body as she settled on their stomach. “Get up, sleepyhead. The day’s nearly over.” She informed them, spooning another bite of now cereal into her mouth.

She’d meant to cook. Nathan had always been the better of the two of them, but Sofia had picked up a thing or two over the years. She’d really meant to cook, just like she’d meant to go grocery shopping, but having forgotten to do the latter, the former didn’t seem possible with what meager produce she had in her fridge, the realization of which had her sighing and leaning her forehead against the door. If not for her parents, Michael wouldn’t know what a homecooked meal (that wasn’t Kraft Mac-n-Cheese) tasted like. Almost desperately, Sofia cast a look at the Kraft package visible from the open pantry, but the sound of laughter from the other room ultimately drew her attention away. The sight that met her warmed her heart; her cousin, Rizzo and her son, Michael. The coffee table pushed back to open up the living room floor for optimal wrestling space. Michael jumping from the couch to tackle Rizzo, who admitted defeat in a dramatic (re: Rizzo-like) fashion, Michael’s arms raising in victory, only to be tackled in turn. They were absolutely ridiculous...and deserved more than boxed mac-n-cheese. “Break anything and neither of you get dessert.” She called in warning, before disappearing back into the kitchen to figure it out.

@salrizzo

“So you’re a tough guy, make your mama sad type...” Marley mumbled the (incorrect) words from the radio underneath her breath as she stood at the stove, scraping the spatula against the bottom of the pan, waiting for it’s contents to resemble something like scrambled eggs and less like egg soup. If Skyler had the kind of night last night she thought he had, he was certainly going to need something greasy, and nothing cured Marley’s hangover like a good bagel sandwich. She’d only caught the tail-end of his sexcapade by the time she had made it home after work. Late enough to be exposed to only the faintest of moans and a few laughs, though if it continued after she put her earbuds in and began to play music, Marley didn’t know. Exhausted from a long day, Marley had happily collapsed into her own bed, lulled to sleep by the shuffle of her iPod’s playlist. When she awoke, she thought she’d recalled the opening of the front door a few hours before, taking that to mean it would be just her and her roommate in the apartment.