Their Roommate

Episode 6: Coffee In Bed

The scent of garlic and butter still clung to the kitchen as the four of us sat around the table, bellies full and shoulders relaxed, basking in the afterglow of shared food and heavier confessions. Laughter echoed softly in the corners of the apartment, and though the air still buzzed with charged tension, it was no longer heavy with unspoken truths. It was lighter now—hopeful, like the first crack of sunlight after a storm.

Thomas was the first to break the comfortable silence, pushing back from the table with a stretch that had his T-shirt riding up just enough to be distracting. He groaned in a way that made me blush, even though I was pretty sure it was unintentional. "Okay, so... movie night? Or are we all just gonna sit here and make eyes at each other till it gets weird?"

"Wasn't it already weird?" I teased, my voice a touch too playful.

Edward smirked into his glass of water. "It got weird the moment you called us out. In a good way."

Daniel chuckled softly, pushing to his feet and collecting a few of the plates. "Movie night sounds perfect. You pick, Liz. House rule."

"House rule? You just made that up."

"Doesn't mean it isn't valid," he said over his shoulder, disappearing into the kitchen, the sound of running water and clinking dishes following him.

I padded over to the couch while they cleaned up, curling my legs beneath me and flipping through our streaming options. The familiarity of it all settled something in my bones. Just days ago, I'd been falling apart. Now, I was... safe. Maybe even happy. The way their voices floated from the kitchen, filled with inside jokes and laughter, was grounding in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

"Please tell me you're not picking a tearjerker," Thomas said as he plopped down beside me. His thigh brushed against mine. He didn’t move it. Neither did I.

"No promises."

Edward settled on my other side, a comfortable, grounding presence. His warmth radiated into me, steady and reassuring. Daniel returned last, dimming the lights before sliding onto the floor in front of us, his back resting between my knees like it was the most natural thing in the world.

We watched some ridiculous rom-com none of us took seriously, but no one really cared about the movie. We were wrapped in a strange, wonderful cocoon of warmth, limbs brushing and laughter overlapping. There was something magical about the way we all fit—awkward, yes, but natural, too. The laughter was louder, more frequent, like we were all a little high on each other’s company.

At some point, Thomas rested his head lightly on my shoulder, his hand finding mine between the couch cushions. Edward's arm draped casually behind me, his fingers occasionally grazing the back of my neck in absentminded patterns that sent shivers down my spine. Daniel leaned back just enough for his head to rest against my thigh, his hand curling gently around my ankle like it was the only tether he needed.

No one spoke. No one needed to. Our bodies communicated in ways our words couldn’t—every touch saying, "I see you," every glance whispering, "I want you."

The movie rolled on. The credits came and went. And still, we stayed tangled together, unwilling to break the spell. My heart was a fluttering thing in my chest, thrilled and terrified in equal measure.

Eventually, Daniel stood and stretched, rubbing at his neck. "Alright. I'm crashing. Work in the morning."

Thomas groaned dramatically. "Party pooper."

Edward nudged him with a grin. "You have work too."

I stood, swaying slightly as the cozy haze clung to me. "I should get ready for bed."

Three sets of eyes found mine. Three smiles, all different, all meaningful.

"Sleep well, Liz," Daniel said, his voice soft as he passed me in the hall. His fingers grazed mine briefly. A silent goodnight.

Edward and Thomas lingered behind.

"Night, gorgeous," Thomas murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. It sent a bolt of heat straight through me, pooling low and hot. My breath caught.

Edward didn’t say anything, just reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His thumb brushed my cheek. It was a fleeting touch, but it held a promise—one that curled in my stomach and made me ache for something more.

No expectations. No pressure.

Just... something.

I went to bed with my heart fluttering like it hadn’t in years. This was new territory. Scary, uncertain, and messy.

But as I curled beneath the covers, I smiled.

It also felt a lot like falling in love—which was definitely not allowed.

The next morning, I woke to the smell of coffee and the soft creak of my bedroom door opening. Sunlight streamed through the curtains in lazy golden streaks, warming my sheets. Edward stood there, shirt rumpled and hair still sleep-tousled, carrying a steaming mug like it was a peace offering.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he said softly as he gently shook me awake. His voice was low and teasing, sending shivers through me.

I groaned and tried to roll over, but he set the coffee on my bedside table and pulled me up into a sitting position. I whined like a child, but my heart was doing little flips.

"You’re not allowed to be this charming before I’ve had caffeine," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.

"Too late," he smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Already am."

I took the mug with both hands, letting the warmth seep into my fingers. He watched me sip, his gaze lingering on my lips a moment too long.

His voice dropped an octave. "We meant what we said last night, Liz. Whatever you need... we’re in."

My throat tightened. I wasn’t ready to love again—but damn if they didn’t make me want to be.

"Will you let me sleep in?" I mumbled, half jokingly.

"Unfortunately not, cutie pie. We've got work and you need to find a job." He chuckled softly as I groaned and pulled the blanket up over my head.

His laughter was soft but infectious. "They’ve already left, unfortunately. But I might be willing to make a deal."

I peeked out from under the blanket, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of deal?"

Edward leaned back slightly, still looking maddeningly comfortable in his wrinkled pajamas, his hair tousled like some rom-com lead come to life. "I’ll take off work today. You and I get to know each other a bit more. I imagine jumping into everything like we did yesterday was a bit much, and while we’ve known you for years, we’ve all grown up quite a bit. I'd also like to make sure you're comfortable—with us and with our tastes."

He finished that last sentence with a dark, lingering look at my lips that made me swallow hard.

"Wow, Ed, didn’t expect that from you, Mr. Stoic," I teased, my voice cracking just slightly. "You sure you can speak for both of them as well?"

"Well," he said, eyes dancing with mischief and something deeper, "we’ve lived together for years. And there’ve been a few times when we would share. But not all of us have the exact same tastes. While some do overlap, you might want to hear about the things we’re into before we move forward."

I sat up a little straighter, heart hammering in a confusing mix of curiosity and anticipation. There was something in his tone—serious, reverent, but laced with heat—that made my entire body tingle.

Edward shifted slightly, taking the mug from my hands and setting it aside. His fingers lingered just a second too long, brushing my knuckles.

"So," he murmured, voice like velvet, "do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to find out the fun way?"

My breath hitched. My mind was a battlefield of nerves and desire, but I didn’t look away. Instead, I leaned in—just slightly, enough to blur the lines between questions and answers.

"Surprise me," I whispered.

His smile was slow. Dangerous.

And I had the feeling I was about to learn more than I ever expected.