so i used a prompt for this one: "cramming until 3 in the morning and having to sleep over at each other's houses"
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"How far are you in chapter 12?" I ask, yawning through my words.
"M'not even there yet - wait, for English or for Physics?" Thomas responds, looking over to me from under the pile of books and his laptop strayed across his bed. Cans of Red Bull litter the floor. He pushes a hand over his hair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Bloody hell, this drink is supposed to wake me up, not tire me out."
I take one of the empty cans from next to me, and crush it between my fingers. "English. And it isn't doing any good to me either."
Thomas sighs, throwing his head back with a groan. "(Y/n), it's almost three in the morning, and we have classes tomorrow. I think we should call it a night."
I stand up, my back cracking. I straighten myself out, then bend down, grabbing my textbooks and shoving them into my bag. "Good idea," I say, picking up the drink cans and crumpled notes near me and walking across the room, tossing them into the trash bin near the door. Zipping up my bag, I sigh, peeking out the window. I had to walk home, and it had been raining nonstop for the past hour.
Thomas pushes the pile off of him, standing up. "Jesus Christ, are you gonna walk back?" he asks, bewildered.
"That was the plan, yeah--" I say, before he cuts me off.
"That's funny. No, you're not."
"What?" I ask him, furrowing my eyebrows. "Then where the hell do I sleep?"
When Thomas points to his bed, my mouth dries up. I clear my throat. "Not that the offer isn't appealing, I didn't bring any clothes with me."
Without saying a word, he walks over to his closet, tugging a t-shirt off a hanger and balling it up, tossing it over to me. "Now you did."
I blink. "And where'll you sleep?" I ask, unfurling the shirt and holding it to my chest.
"The floor," he says simply, clearing off his bed, neatly stacking his textbooks on his table.
I gnaw at the inside of my lip. Relax, you've known him a while. He won't kill you in your sleep, get a damn hold of yourself. The mental affirmation eases my mind slightly, and I give him a small grin. "Thanks, Tommy."
He looks over to me, startled at the use of his old nickname, but then grins. "No problem."
I walk over to his bathroom, shutting the door behind me. Taking a hair tie from around my wrist, I pull my hair up into a ponytail, before twisting it and turning it into a bun. I glance at the shirt - it's one I've seen him wear before, with a Green Lantern symbol emblazoned on the chest. When I pull off my button down and slip the t-shirt on, the hem falls at the middle of my thigh - and it's comfy as fuck. Might not give this back. I decide to keep my tights on, and wash my face quickly before stepping out of the bathroom.
Thomas is turned around, in the middle of tugging his shirt off when I step back into his room. He spins around, half of his shirt over his head and the other around his chest. He pauses for a moment, peeking over the hem of the shirt at me before clearing his throat and pulling it off completely, both our cheeks heating up. He holds his shirt in front of his chest. "Sorry, I thought you'd take longer." He says quietly, balling up his shirt and throwing it over to a chair.
I shake my head. "Don't - don't worry about it." At all, really.
"Anyway," he says, clearing his throat again, "as I mentioned before, I'll take the floor."
