Honey had always slept well there; it was early when she had rolled over and thrown an arm over the dog, who had joined her in bed a few minutes before, and fallen back asleep. It was still early when she woke up for the second time, blinking sleep out of her eyes and slowly recognizing where she was. She rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes as she considered her next steps; if it was anyone but Will, she’d leave. Left alone in the bedroom, it was the perfect chance, but it was Will and she had silenced any little alarm bells she might have had last night (thanks, gin).
She turned her head to glance at the clock -- the shop wasn’t open until ten so she had a little time -- and spot the cup of tea. Sitting up, she swivelled to set her feet on the floor, pull the cup toward her; it was still warm and she sipped it without worrying if this was too much. It was just Will being Will; it was earl grey, like it always was, and it was perfectly sweetened, too. She had another sip before she stood up and wandered the room with her tea; she wanted to borrow a t-shirt and peeked in a couple drawers even though she knew exactly where he kept them.
She’d been morbidly curious and half expected to find some things the girlfriend -- the ex -- had left behind, might have been pleasantly surprised to find nothing. Maybe they hadn’t been that serious. Not that it mattered now and then again, what had she ever left at Harlan’s? Honey pulled on a plain black t-shirt and considered it for a second, unable to think of anything but maybe her toothbrush and a tube of mascara. There was a brief hesitation, rethinking everything; maybe they hadn’t been that serious; she shook her head and told herself to fuck off. Of course they had been serious, even if it might not have been obvious now, standing in Will’s bedroom, tell-tale sounds of breakfast-making coming from the other side of the door.
Honey took her time in the bathroom, scrubbing her face, pulling her hair up, swishing mouthwash, pushing back thoughts related to what she was doing there at all. It didn’t escape her that she had used both their breakups to her advantage; she had told him about Harlan, sort of, leaving out the important bit about Harlan and Bérénice. She could blame her decision last night on the gin but she didn’t know what to blame it on now because as she stared at herself in the mirror, she decided to continue not telling him.
Tea in hand, Honey headed out of the bedroom, Dave darting around her once he realized there was food on the stove. “Morning.†Her reply was a bit groggier than his, but she smiled when she caught his eye, watching him as he turned back to cooking. “Great,†she answered honestly, having a seat as he offered; Grace had spent the last few nights with her but she had slept far better here and she didn’t want to think about why. “You? You’re up early.†Though he usually was, she supposed. Not everyone loved to sleep in until the last possible minute.
She tipped some eggs onto her plate and picked up a piece of toast, waving off Will’s apologies for the dog. “I’m a big fan of his,†she said around a bite of toast, ripping off another corner of it to not-so-sneakily sneak it to Dave under the table. She looked back up, smiling softly at the compliment. “Thanks.†She had swallowed her mouthful of toast, at least. “And thanks for--†she motioned with her toast at the breakfast spread. “Perfect, as usual.†Had she seriously been annoyed by all of this before? She’d thought he was trying to hard, but maybe that was just trying, in general. Grass is always greener, or something.
“I’m gonna have to dine and dash,†she said with a little laugh, hoping it was clear she wasn’t in a hurry to leave despite what she’d just said. “Shop’s open at ten.†She supposed he remembered that -- when was the last time Honeydukes had changed its hours? -- but she mentioned it in case he hadn’t held on to those sorts of details. She set her toast down and sipped her tea, watching him over the rim of her cup. “Last night was fun,†she said, in between sips.