#anyway. context on the au is dona not wanting her little pootie all alone in the dorms

[razzle-zazzle]

1628 Words; @brain-bumbler's Dormmates AU

AO3 ver

Norma came into awareness slowly, the world melting into place around her. Sweat-slicked hair clung to her forehead, her cheek smushed into the pillow. Her throat felt raw. Her whole body felt damp, sticky with sweat, her sheets impossibly heavy atop her. Her neck ached.

Norma blinked, bleary eyes struggling to focus on the darkness before her. For a moment, she was under the impression that she needed to get up right now and get ready for the day, before she was late. But her bed was so comfy, and her eyelids so heavy—

Ugh, it was wayyyy too hot. With a groan, Norma kicked at her sheets, wiggling until her legs were free. Her neck ached, like she’d been sleeping weird.

But she needed to get up, now, before she was late. She had classes. The clock read 3:42, she needed to get up—

Wait.

It was Saturday. She didn’t have classes today.

Norma rolled over as some of the fog in her head cleared. She didn’t need to get up until eight. Her eyes started to sting in the way they always did when she woke up way too early, her throat ached, there was a drool spot on her pillow—

Oh, god, no.

Please, she thought, her mouth and throat dry as sandpaper. I just want to sleep.

But sleep wasn’t going to come, was it? She closed her mouth, attempted to swallow—

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe, because her mouth was shut and her nose was blocked. Because her sinuses refused to let her have a moment’s peace, and now here she was, her throat dry and aching because she’d been breathing dry air in through her mouth all night. Ugh. Of all the awful things to wake her up before she needed to.

Norma turned back over. The clock read 3:46. The number taunted her, the soft green glow seeming to laugh at her misfortune.

Slowly, Norma sat up. Maybe her sinuses would drain long enough for her to fall back asleep in a reasonable amount of time. She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and her fingers to the bridge of her nose. The trick didn’t always work, but at this ungodly hour Norma felt that the universe owed it to her.

Norma closed her mouth, and tried to breathe through her nose. She didn’t want to have to blow it—sure, her dormmate was Sam, who could sleep through bagpipes, and there were tissues on her nightstand, but still. It left her feeling gross, and Norma wasn’t that desperate.

She opened her mouth with a gasp. Okay, so maybe she was that desperate.

3:57. Norma blinked at the clock, tissue in hand. Her head and eyes hurt from being awake so early. She fumbled for the wastebasket.

Ugh, this wasn’t working. Breathing through her mouth was awful. Norma laid back down. Maybe it’d help if she shifted the way her head was resting.

She stayed like that as the clock ticked on. Tossing, turning, her frustration mounting. 4:15. 4:23. She had to kick off her sheets entirely, sticky with sweat. 4:27. 4:32. 4:36. 4:38.

Norma rolled over. She just wanted to sleep. She couldn’t breathe through her nose. Her mouth was so dry.

4:47.

4:54.

4:58.

5:01.

Oh, for the sake of—

Norma rolled out of bed with all the grace of a drunken moose, fumbling on the nightstand for her glasses. She stumbled towards her closet, lighting a small flame on her fingertips to give her light to see by.

Benadryl, cold medicine, painkillers, bandaids—there! Decongestant. In the light of the flickering little flame, she popped the bottle open, and shook two of the pills into her hand. With the way her sinuses felt, she was glad she still had some left.

She needed water. There were sinks in the bathroom, but no cups. Kitchen it was.

Flame in hand, Norma trudged out of her dorm, through the small hall to the common area. She rounded the corner, her focus locked on the little kitchenette where she’d find a sink and a cup—

The light was already on. Someone was quietly humming.

So apparently Norma wasn’t the only person up at this ungodly hour. Norma knew that Morris woke up fairly early to give himself time to build up his pompadour, but even then, she had always gotten up before him. She’d alway been the earliest riser in the dorms, able to calmly enjoy her breakfast while everyone else was either still in bed, just rolling out, or busy in the bathroom using all the hair product.

At least, she had been the earliest riser. But ever since this intrusion to their space, that title often ended up going to one Dionysus Aquato.

And there he was now, standing before the stove, scrambling eggs at five in the morning in circus tights.

Silence filled the space between them. Norma blinked blearily, her eyes adjusting slowly to the light. Dion stared back at her, his face blank with surprise. His hair was down, brown curls held out of his eyes by a pair of hair clips.

They stood there, the silence broken only by the faint hiss of frying eggs. Just the two of them, staring at each other.

Norma—and she wasn’t entirely sure what she intended to say, if anything—opened her mouth a little further, her voice starting to come out in a strangled croak—

Dion turned back to the stove, and his quiet humming resumed.

Whatever. Norma was in no mood for conversation, nor did she care to pry into whatever nonsense was going through his head. She went to the sink, telekinetically grabbing a cup from the cupboard.

She felt a reflexive spike of anxiety-distrust from Dion at the soft glow of her telekinetic hand, and ignored it. There was a reason she never tried to pry into his head—Dion’s brain was just as obnoxious as he was. Norma supposed it was fitting, that the guy who muttered under his breath had thoughts that never shut up, but that didn’t mean she didn’t dislike it.

With a grumble, Norma swallowed the decongestant, chugging the rest of the water to get the taste out of her mouth. After refilling her cup halfway and finishing that off, she reached for the dish soap and a rag.

Behind her, Dion took the pan off the heat, turning off the stove. His humming had turned to quiet muttering, small phrases popping out at Norma as she tried not to listen. She was too tired for eavesdropping, and she had long since learned that the acrobat never said anything worth listening to, either.

But her brain kept latching onto the sound; kept latching onto the words and trying to decipher them all. Norma set the cup on the drying rack and rubbed her temples. That decongestant was not kicking in fast enough. Breathing through her mouth was awful. Being awake at this hour was awful. And that obnoxious muttering was awful—

She whirled around, “Can you stop?” Ugh, even her voice sounded awful.

Dion’s muttering ground to a halt as he scraped his eggs onto a plate. “Stop what?” He asked, eyes narrowed.

Norma gestured at him. “Your mumbling.” She glared at him, “It’s so grating.”

“Sorry if I’m annoying you, princess.” He spat, not sounding sorry at all. “Why are you even out here, anyway?” He sat down at the table, his plate in front of him. “You don’t have classes today.”

Norma didn’t even want to dignify that with a response. But she had never been able to leave a conversation without the last word, so she pulled out a chair of her own, sat down, and responded, “Because I needed water.” The obviously, you fool went unspoken.

The soft clink of fork against plate was Norma’s only response, then—

“Why are you still here?” Dion asked around a bite of eggs. “You already had your water.” He pointed out.

Norma raised her eyebrows, completely intent on not saying anything—

“I couldn’t sleep.” She admitted. “But I bet you know all about that.” It wasn’t a wild guess, given the facts laid out before her.

Dion huffed, his eyes falling down to the plate before him.

Norma smirked. She was starting to feel more awake now, but her throat and eyes still burned from waking up so early. Maybe she should go back to sleep…

Some part of her balked at the idea, for no good reason. But Norma still continued to sit there while Dion ate his eggs, ignoring the siren call of her unlit dorm and warm bed. Not because she was interested in hanging around this loser, of course. She was only here because she wanted to be, obviously, completely independent of any other factors.

(Because going back to her room just because Dion was out here felt like admitting defeat.)

They sat there in silence, the only sound the soft clink of fork against plate.

Whatever. Norma didn’t feel like talking anymore, anyway. Not until her sinuses cleared, and not to Dion. That he had seen her in her nightgown was vulnerability enough, she felt. Just because the guy was rooming with her and the other junior agents didn’t mean she owed him anything.

Norma glanced at Dion’s plate. It looked like he had mixed cheese and herbs into his eggs—not that she wanted any. He’d only made enough for himself, and Norma wasn’t in the mood to eat right now.

Her sinuses were clearing up, finally. She could go back to bed. Maybe even make herself a cup of hot chocolate.

She continued to sit in silence at the table.