Heather
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I wake up warm.

For a second, I forget where I am.

There's a weight draped over my waist, a steady rise and fall against my back, a faint scent of something familiar-citrusy, clean, Robin.

Then it all rushes back.

The fight. The kiss. The fact that I never left. The sex, oh, the sex! She had to stuff my panties in my mouth to keep me from screaming and waking the entire house.

I blink, adjusting to the morning light slipping through the curtains. The room is still.

Robin is behind me, her breathing slow, steady, her arm draped over my stomach like she belongs there.

I should move. I should slip out from under her touch, grab my things, and hurry back to my own room before anyone notices I never slept in my own bed.

But I don't.

I stay, sinking into the warmth of the sheets, into the way her body fits against mine. Just for a second longer.

Her bed is softer than mine. Or maybe it's because she's in it.

My fingers curl against the fabric, grounding myself in the moment.

My heart beats a little too fast, my skin tingling with the remnants of last night-of her hands, her lips, her voice, quiet but sure in the dark. I can still feel it, all of it, pressed into my skin like permanent ink.

Robin shifts behind me, a small movement, but enough for her arm to tighten slightly, enough for her fingers to twitch against my side. My breath catches, but I don't turn to look at her.

Because if I do, if I meet her gaze, I might forget that this is borrowed time. That soon, I'll have to leave this bed, this room, this moment, and return to the version of myself that exists outside of here.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe if I don't move, time will pause. Maybe if I stay still enough, I can make this last just a little longer.

Robin stirs again, a sigh slipping from her lips, her fingers flexing once more before relaxing.

My chest tightens.

I don't want to leave.

But then-

A loud knock at the door.

I freeze.

"Robin?" The voice comes.

I jolt upright, panic flooding my system. "Shit."

Robin groans, still half-asleep. "Who the fuck-"

The doorknob turns.

I scramble, shoving the sheets off, my heart hammering. "Shit, shit, shit-"

Robin's suddenly awake, sitting up, eyes wide. "Fuck-"

I'm shuffling to find my underwear, my dress, anything, but it's too late. The door is about to open, and I'm still completely exposed.

Robin moves faster than I can process. She grabs my wrist, my clothes, yanks me off the bed, and practically shoves me into her walk-in closet.

The door shuts just as the bedroom door swings open.

My heart pounds as I press my back against the closet wall, clutching my dress to my chest, barely able to breathe.

Outside, Robin's voice, breathless but forced casual. "Melanie?"

"Good morning to you too," Melanie says, way too chipper for this time of day. "You look like hell."

Robin exhales sharply, probably running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, well. Morning's not my thing."

Melanie laughs, then, "We're all going for a picnic this afternoon. I want to borrow one of your ugly throw-overs. I'm going for like hippie with no fashion sense."

"Ouch."

I press a hand over my mouth, silently begging Robin to just give her something, anything, and get her out of here before she opens this door.

But of course-

"Closet's a mess," Robin says, stepping in front of the situation, voice a little too quick.

Melanie snorts. "When has it never been?"

I hear her footsteps moving closer.

Panic flares in my chest.

"Mel-"

Too late.

The door cracks open.

"Fine, I will get it for you!" Robin to the fuckin rescue. I scoot further behind the door. If they open it and just don't dare close it, I might survive this.

Melanie grumbles but steps aside. I watch Robin step in, rake a shelf and pull up the ugliest shade of brown I've ever seen. It's sucking everything in me to not react.

Robin throws me a wary eyes before going back out. "There you go. So, uh. The picnic?"

Melanie hums. "You're coming?"

Robin shrugs. "Maybe."

There's silence before Melanie sighs, "Mom will probably make you go."

Robin says something incoherent before I hear the door shutting.

Silence.

I exhale shakily, my legs weak as I step out of the closet. My heart is still hammering in my chest, the adrenaline from the close call refusing to settle. I press a hand to my stomach, trying to steady myself.

"Holy shit."

Robin groans, collapsing onto the bed like she's been defeated. "Kill me."

I let out a short, breathless laugh, but it doesn't ease the tension winding through my body. I grab a pillow and chuck it at her. "This is your fault."

She doesn't even flinch. The pillow bounces off her shoulder and lands on the floor, but she just stares at the ceiling like she's made peace with her fate. "I'm too sweet for you."

I roll my eyes and finally reach for my dress, pulling it over my head. My hands shake slightly as I smooth the fabric down. My heart hasn't stopped racing.

I can still hear Melanie's voice in my head, her casual tone, the way she lingered just a little too long. "She knows."

Robin stiffens slightly, but she doesn't move. "No, she doesn't."

I turn to look at her, but she won't meet my eyes. I can't tell if she actually believes that or if she just needs to say it out loud to make herself feel better.

I want to believe her. I really do. But it's not working.

But I don't fight her on this, I just smile and nod. I still can't get past this gut feeling that Melanie knows something is off.

I sigh, rubbing my arms. "See you later?"

Robin watches me for a beat before nodding while slipping back under the covers and I wish I could get in there with her.

"Of course."

I hesitate for a second longer, lingering by the door, but I force myself to step out before I make another mistake like forgetting to slip out of my sister-in-law's room.