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Dried drool sticks to Ophelia's cheek when she starts to wake up. She blinks her eyes open, brain foggy from sleep. She's on her stomach, starfished on the bed. Her arm is bent awkwardly underneath her body while the other is clutching a pillow. Smacking her lips, Ophelia lazily raises her head.
The room is scarily neat. The black dresser and matching bedside tables on either side of the bed are the only splash of color save for the pile of blankets in the beige-walled room. There's no dust or webs in the corners like Ophelia's room, but that's on her being too lazy to clean. Ophelia sits up, pushing her hair out of her face to look around more.
There's a single photo framed on the right bedside table. It's of a smiling Samantha with a handsome man. They're dressed in hiking gear, backpacks on as they stand on a bridge with beautiful mountains in the background. Samantha's watch is beside it along with her cell phone still on the charger.
She stands from the bed, making her way further into the apartment. "Samantha?"
"In the kitchen!" The shout comes from around the corner. When she rounds it, Ophelia finds Samantha eating a bowl of cereal. "G'morning."
Samantha is dressed in her usual ensemble that Ophelia has come to associate with the older woman. Pressed black slacks and a blue button-down shirt tucked in. She has a leather black belt, and Ophelia just knows the woman has her checkered Vans on. She never seemed to wear a different shoe. "You're dressed nicely today." She slowly walks to the counter, leaning across from the other. She wipes at her face, feeling anything but well rested.
"No, I usually wear this." Samantha peers down at her clothes. "A dress would be dressing 'nice.'" She tips the bowl, drinking the left over milk.
"Take the compliment, Samantha." Ophelia places her head on the cold marble of the counter.
A hand pats her head. "Thank you." She hears the sink turn on then the clang of a dish being placed on the drying rack. "You hungry? I have cereal and oatmeal, I can make eggs too." Samantha turns from the sink to see Ophelia still slumped over.
"No, I have stuff at my place." She straightens up and throws her arms in the air. Ophelia moans blissfully as she stretches, going on her tiptoes to get the right angle to turn her body to the side. "I needed that." She opens her eyes to see Samantha staring at her with a coffee mug raised to her mouth.
"Sorry," She encircles her wrist with her hand, rubbing her thumb over the pulse point. "Didn't mean to start making all those noises."
She shakes her head, sipping from the mug. "By all means, go ahead, I don't mind."
Ophelia's eyes widen a bit at the woman's words. She didn't mean that, did she? "I should probably get going." She points in the direction of the bedroom. "I'm gonna grab my things." Samantha hums, still drinking her coffee.
Samantha is waiting at the door for her. She had put on a raincoat. She has a satchel thrown over one shoulder so that it crosses her body. An umbrella swings in her hands as she stands with her back to the wall. "All ready?"
She opens the door allowing Ophelia to step out first. Ophelia walks to her door, remembering that she left it unlocked last night. "Thanks again for last night." She toes at the ground suddenly nervous. "Also sorry for taking your bed."
The older woman laughs, hand on the railing to the stairs. "I woke up to your hand on my face." Ophelia feels heat climb up her neck and face. "At least it wasn't like at the hotel."
"You said you wouldn't bring that up again." She opens her door, "I warned you of my sleeping habits." Ophelis points a finger at Samantha, her voice taking a stern tone.
Samantha licks her bottom lip and then grins. She starts down the stairs, throwing over her shoulder. "I won't tell anyone, sweetheart."
____________________________________________________
"And then she called me sweetheart! Erica, it was patronizing." Ophelia has her phone set on the dresser as she starts combing out her wet hair. A towel is wrapped around her body while her feet and stuffed into her house shoes.
"She could also just be really friendly." Erica is at the hospital, sitting behind a desk. Ophelia had spied charts and knew the other was probably trying to procrastinate doing them. "How old is she by the way?"
She opens her mouth but goes still, a frown etches itself on her face. " I don't know, we've been hanging out for the last month and I don't know how old Samantha is." Ophelia feels bad. "Anytime we hang out I always end up talking her ear off. She must think I'm annoying."
"I think you're annoying but I'm still here." Erica grins when she flips her off.
She adds some hair gel to her waves, scrunching them. Ophelia walks out of the bathroom and to her bedroom. "No, because I texted her twice today and she never responded back. I think she's mad at me for last night."
Erica's fuzzy pom pom pen wiggles in the camera's frame. "Because she invited you to spend the night?" She pauses in her charting. "We've shared a bed before, I don't think you're that bad to sleep with." She stares at Ophelia, "Maybe she just got busy."
"I saw her four times today." Ophelia drops her towel, pulling on her pajamas. "I asked if she wanted to get lunch, no response. Then I sent her a funny meme, no response."
"Must have been a bad meme." Erica laughs at Ophelia.
"Hey! I can't send her the dark humor ones that I send you. I don't know if she's okay with that." Ophelia pulls up her sweatpants, ready to go make some cup noodles and call it a night.
In the kitchen, she starts boiling water on the stovetop in a saucepan. She chooses to do this instead of microwaving the noodles. Ophelia refused to stoop to her college days. "How did that date go by the way?"
Erica scoffs, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. "She was awful! Showed up 10 minutes late to the restaurant and then had the audacity to say I should pay since I asked her out."
She makes a face. "That's gross, did you drop her?" Her friend nods, continuing her rant.
A knock sounds at her door. "Hold on Erica, someone's at the door." Ophelia takes the phone with her to the door. When she opens it, her eyes go wide briefly before slightly narrowing. "Hey, Samantha." Erica suddenly cuts off in her talking, most likely eavesdropping once she heard who was at the door.
"Hey Ophelia," She smiles, "I ordered Chinese and they sent me a bit too much." Samantha lifts a plastic bag. "Wanna have dinner together?"
"Yes! Yes, she does!" Erica screeches from the phone.
Samantha looks behind Ophelia into the apartment, "I didn't realize you had company..." Her expression shutters.
"No, she's free." Erica smirks when Ophelia brings the phone out of her pocket and in front of her face.
She glares at the other. "Erica, I thought we were going to talk?"
Erica makes a show of checking her watch. "Oh, would you look at that! I gotta go check on my patients, call you later." Erica shoots her a thumbs up then hangs up.
"Sorry, that was my best friend." Ophelia sucks her teeth, "Did you want to come in?" She opens the door wider to let Samantha inside.
The redhead enters, taking her shoes off at the door. Ophelia takes note but doesn't comment. "I don't have a dinner table yet so we have to eat at the island." She turns the stovetop off, pours the water out, and places the pan on the drying rack.
Samantha takes a seat on a barstool, unpacking the food. She unloads 2 styrofoam containers and a classic Chinese noodle container. "I hope you like spicy food."
Ophelia sets out 2 plates with forks. She cracks open a Coke, offering an unopened one to Samantha. "I love spicy food," She takes the seat beside her. "Coke?"
The other woman takes it, smoothly opening it and taking a sip. "Here, you can have whatever you want." She gestures to the containers.
Ophelia shrugs, loading up her plate with 1 of everything. The fried rice, the noodles, the sliced steak with grilled vegetables. She grins, bumping her shoulder with Samantha, "Thanks for dinner!"
Samantha looks away, sipping her coke. "No problem."
They eat in silence; the only sound is their forks when they scrape the plate. Ophelia doesn't know what to talk about. She isn't going to bring up Samantha not texting back. That would seem clingy and Ophelia doesn't want to seem like that. Samantha is one of the only other faculty members that Ophelia treats as a friend, the rest she honestly doesn't like.
"So..." Ophelia rocks back in her seat. "Any plans this weekend?" It's Thursday so neither one of them have work until Monday. The students usually have online work on Friday and then they're free before the afternoon starts.
The redhead chews the noodles in her mouth, holding up a finger. "No."
She nods, making a face. This isn't awkward. No, not at all.
"Why? Did you want to do something?" She whips her head to Samantha. The other startles, fork in hand.
"You want to hang out this weekend?" Ophelia asks, needing confirmation.
Samantha nods her head slowly, obvious confusion in her eyes. "You seem surprised."
Ophelia tries to go for nonchalance and just knows she's failing. "No, nope, not me." She jerks a thumb at herself. "Me surprised? Never."
"Why are you getting nervous?" She leans closer, placing her hand on the counter between them while the other comes up to hold the back of Ophelia's seat.
"I'm not!" She's ashamed of how high her voice sounds.
The older woman leans closer while Ophelia stays still. Samantha has that look in her eyes like she's assessing Ophelia. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike. "You sure? Your face is getting red." The hand on the counter raises, swiping at her mouth. Samantha licks her thumb, smirking.
"Totally sure."
A hand cups her face, "Why do I always have to tell you this?" Samantha uses her hand to raise Ophelia's face up. "Look me in the eye when you speak."
She swallows, finding Samantha's blue eyes glittering under the bright LEDs of the kitchen. Her eyes are filled with warmth but there's an undercurrent of emotion that Ophelia can't place. "Yes, sorry."
"Good." She squeezes her cheek, eyes crinkling as she smiles. "So this weekend? What do you want to do?" Samantha finally drops her hand, moving back. Her hand is still on the back of Ophelia's chair, caging her in.
"I won't have my car so I can't drive us anywhere." Ophelia scratches her cheek where Samantha's hand had just been. "We could have a movie night or something?" The blank look on Samantha's face makes Ophelia panic. It's like the older woman found that idea to be boring. Ophelia racks her brain for anything else that they could do together but can't think with that penetrating gaze on her.
"Like a sleepover?" Samantha tilts her head, resting her chin on her palm.
A bigger flush lights her face up like a stoplight. "Uh-well it could...not that we haven't slept together before." Ophelia hurries to correct herself when Samantha's eyes widen, "Not like that! We haven't done that." She smacks a hand over her mouth, and sweat gathers along her back. "I'm not assuming you would want to, that's...and you're-"
Samantha thankfully interrupts her word vomit. "Sleepover, Friday night, my place?" The corner of her mouth is lifted like she's withholding from saying more.
"Sounds great." Ophelia hurriedly stands, backing away from Samantha. "Want dessert?"
She hears laughing behind her. "Yeah, what do you have?"
Ophelia grabs the blueberry pie from the night before from Judy. "Blueberry pie?"
"I love pie," Ophelia screams, jumping a foot into the air. Without her notice, Samantha had quietly come up behind her. She had whispered the words in Ophelia's ear making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. "Whoa, don't hurt yourself." Samantha quirks a brow at Ophelia when she almost drops the pie with her wild movements.
"Samantha!" Ophelia pushes the laughing woman away. "Why do you always do that?" She places the container in the microwave to warm up.
Samantha enters her personal space again. "You make it so easy, sweetheart." She pats Ophelia's cheek like she's a child.
The timer beeps, breaking their stare off. Ophelia places the slices in separate bowls. Instead of handing it to the other, she slides it across the counter. Knowing the woman, Samantha would find a way to tease her again.
As they eat, Ophelia glares at the other, who stares back innocently. She huffs, rolling her eyes but remains silent. Samantha chuckles but otherwise doesn't make a move to come closer. Once they finish eating, Samantha insists on helping wash the dishes. Even though it's just a few, the woman had pushed Ophelia toward the sink, standing by her side, dish soap in hand.
It takes a quick 10 minutes to wash and hand dry them all. They place them back in their respective places in the cabinets and drawers. When Ophelia grabs her phone to check the time, there's a stream of text messages from Erica.
"Thanks for having me over." Samantha is pulling her shoes on at the door.
Ophelia pockets the phone, smiling. "It was fun. We should do it more often."
"We're doing it tomorrow night," Samantha smirks at the pink flush that blooms across Ophelia's face. "Listen, sorry I didn't reply to your texts. I left my phone in the apartment all day."
Ophelia stares down at her feet, uncomfortable. "It's okay." She glances up at Samantha, "I didn't think you were ignoring me or anything. I know you're busy." That's a lie, she totally thought the older woman was ignoring her.
"You know you look at your feet when you lie." Samantha's feet enter her line of sight. She finally raises her head. "Don't pout, you're too pretty for that."
"I didn't know you paid attention that much." She hugs her arms around her middle, that uncomfortable feeling rising.
Samantha leans in, bursting through her personal space bubble. Yet again. Her hand grabs her forearm, traveling up until it cups her elbow. Ophelia's hair raises up on her arm from the feel.
"To you? I always pay attention to you." She gives her elbow a gentle squeeze before letting go. "Night, Ophelia." She opens the door, closing it after her.
____________________________________________________
Ophelia waves goodbye to her Aunt Azalea as she drives off in her small Nissan Altima. She had sent her off with a demand for the wonderful pastries that Meredith, her Aunt's partner, makes as payment for borrowing her car. Above, storm clouds roll as a light drizzle starts. She quickly jogs inside, heading down to the basement to do laundry.
She drags her laundry basket down the many steps to the basement, muttering curses the entire way. At the bottom, Ophelia gives up and just kicks the basket the rest of the way. The laundry room is small. It has 2 washers and 2 dryers, an ironing board with no iron, and a wash basin. There's a variety of detergents and softeners around the room. Each is labeled with a name or room number.
Finding the Tide detergent pods and Snuggle softener, Ophelia loads her clothes into the washer.
"Please tell me you didn't take the last washer?" Dr. Davis stands in the doorway, huffing. She drops a basket of laundry at her feet, fanning herself.
She giggles, helping the woman carry the basket to the washer beside hers. "No, this one is free too." Ophelia watches as Dr. Davis sighs, grabbing her supplies from the shelves lining the wall. "Why are you panting so hard?"
Dr. Davis settles her sensitive skin detergent and scent beads on top of the washer. "Those stairs will be the death of me."
"You live on the first floor." Ophelia cocks away to hide her laughs.
"There are no stairs in the science department." She snaps, loading her clothes up. "We all can't be young and in our prime like you."
Ophelia hops up onto the heavy wooden table in the middle of the room. They use it for folding. "No, I think you're lazy."
Dr. Davis rolls her eyes but laughs goodnaturedly. Over the last month and a half, they had gotten closer. Ophelia wouldn't necessarily say they're friends but more like cool colleagues who don't hate each other.
"Any fun plans tonight?" She whips her JUUL pen out, taking a hit.
Ophelia brightens instantly. "Yeah, Samantha and I are hanging out."
Dr. Davis frowns, "Samantha?"
"Ms. Carter? Her first name is Samantha." Ophelia mirrors the other's confusion.
She hums, nodding sagely. "Had no idea that was her name, the girl never speaks to any of us." Dr. Davis hops up onto the table with her. She offers her JUUL to Ophelia, who shakes her head.
"She's really..." Ophelia can't say nice, because Samantha isn't. She's rude to others and doesn't care. The woman literally threw Dr. Bradley's lunch in the trash when she found it in the teacher's lounge fridge. Her excuse had been that 'men like him don't deserve to eat,' and they left it at that. "She's really funny."
Dr. Davis side-eyes her. "I bet." Her tone is dry as the desert.
"You just gotta talk to her, Dr. Davis. Samantha's really funny and kind when she wants to be." Ophelia feels the need to defend Samantha.
"She took my wet clothes from the washer and put them on the floor." She deadpans in response and Ophelia deflates. "So now I sit here and watch them in case she tries it again."
"Yeah, that's not nice." She grabs her phone, shooting Erica a quick text about next weekend since the other will be coming over. Ophelia sent her a list of items she wanted from Costco with the money sent via Venmo. She couldn't wait to have food in bulk again. She utterly hated going to the village or Walmart to spend over $100 for a few items when the same amount can get her more elsewhere.
Dr. Davis pulls up YouTube on her phone, watching a TED Talk. The woman really enjoyed them and said they were like television to her. Ophelia follows her lead, opening the Netflix app on her phone and watching Wednesday.
____________________________________________________
Ophelia knows she lives across the hall but she still packs a bag. She packs her toiletries, charger, an extra set of clothes like underwear and socks because you never know what will happen. She brings her blanket and pillow again, bringing a pair of house shoes along as well. She had decided to bring OREO cookies, hopefully, they could dip them in milk because Ophelia had a craving for them. At 7 o'clock, she's fresh out of the shower and getting dressed in gray sweatpants with an oversized navy sweatshirt.
Samantha had texted her earlier that she would put a pizza in the oven and they could have dinner at her place. Ophelia had shrugged, agreeing. Less work for her to do. The other woman was so considerate and constantly thought of everything before Ophelia could even plan.
She walks across the hall, rapping her knuckles against the metal door. Ophelia rocks back on her heels with the strap of her duffle bag thrown over one shoulder while her other arm holds her pillow and blanket to her side. Samantha opens the door, smiling, "Hey!" She beckons the other in, shutting the door. She dressed in black joggers with a Lipscomb University hoodie.
"I have the pizza in the oven, it should be done in 10 minutes." She leads Ophelia into her apartment, pointing down the hallway. "You can put your stuff up in my room while I get the movie ready."
Samantha walks to her living room, queuing up the television. Ophelia hasn't said a word at all. She's baffled and a little happy that Samantha trusts her in her apartment. She mumbles a quiet thanks and heads to the bedroom to drop off her things. She places her pillow and blanket on the left side of the bed like last time, setting her duffle bag in the corner next to the bedside table. When she walks back into the living room, Samantha is curled up on the couch.
"What are we watching?" She takes a seat beside the other, suddenly feeling nervous.
Samantha flicks through her Roku account's main menu. "I have Netflix, Hulu, Paramount +, Disney +, and HBO Max. Whatever you're in the mood for, I have it."
Ophelia only has Netflix out of the ones named. "Netflix has Lord of the Rings if you like fantasy."
"I've seen them but that was years ago." She clicks on Netflix finding LOTR: The Fellowship of the Ring.
They quickly settle in, Samantha disappears for a few minutes and comes back with the pizza. She sets it on the coffee table. "Dig in." Samantha takes a bite of her slice, pressing play.
They make it through the first two movies before Ophelia's eyes start watering from forcing herself to stay awake. For the last 30 minutes, she's been blinking, fighting not to fall asleep. Beside her, Samantha is entranced. She throws out comments here and there on the films, not minding that Ophelia stopped replying.
A blanket settles over her shoulders as a warm hand pats her leg that is extended along the couch. Did she lie down? Ophelia couldn't remember.
Ophelia wakes to a black screen with 'Are you still watching?' on it. She rolls her head around, wondering when she fell asleep. She notices the fuzzy throw blanket that covers her next. While the entire living room is dark, the hallway light is on and it illuminates most of the room. Something shifts near her foot causing Ophelia to startle. Samantha is at the other end of the couch, she's tucked into the corner, head pillowed on her arms. The time on her phone reads after 3 A.M.
Stretching, she nudges Samantha with her foot. "Samantha. Samantha wake up." The woman makes a noise of protest, curling up into a tighter ball. "That can't be comfortable."
Ophelia stands from the couch, leaving the thow. She heads to the bedroom, grabbing her toiletries bag. In the bathroom she brushes her teeth, taking her contacts out after. A knock sounds at the door. Knowing it's Samantha she opens it, toothbrush still lodged in her mouth.
Samantha looks sluggish. She wipes a hand over her eyes, hair mussed. "Gotta use the bathroom." She shoos Ophelia out of the bathroom, who rushes to spit the foam into the sink on her way out. She hears the toilet flush as she stands fidgeting in the hallway. The door opens, and Samantha wipes the foam from her mouth with the corner of her sleeve. She raises a brow. "Need something?"
"I was waiting on you to go to bed." Ophelia points toward the bedroom.
"You could have gone in without me." She grins, shaking her head playfully. "The bed won't bite you."
Again, that nervous flutter is in her stomach. Ophelia ponders for a second, wondering if they're butterflies. She watches Samantha climb into bed. When the redhead sees that Ophelia is still standing at the foot of the bed, she sighs. Samantha walks on her knees toward Ophelia, she grabs Ophelia's hands, tugging her forward.
She follows, climbing onto the bed on her knees. Samantha tugs her all the way to the head of the bed. She lays down, hands still holding tight to Ophelia's. Ophelia finally musters up the courage to make eye contact. Her heart stutters. There's a dangerous glint in the older's eyes. A sharp grin cuts her face.
"Sam-" Ophelia chokes on her words as Samantha tugs her forward hard. Air rushes out of her lungs from the impact of falling onto the other so suddenly.
"Gotcha." Samantha's breath brushes her forehead.
Ophelia raises up on her hands, glaring down at her. "That wasn't funny."
Ophelia has one of Samantha's knees trapped between her legs. She also feels hands on her hips, gripping hard, but not enough to leave bruises.
"Why not?" Samantha raises her leg that's trapped between Ophelia's. Ophelia squeaks, moving up when Samantha's knee slides against her core. "I thought it was pretty funny."
Now sitting on the woman's thigh, Ophelia starts to get annoyed. "Your sense of humor is broken." She leans up, putting much needed space between them. She crosses her arms over her chest, staring down at the other.
"Oh sweetheart, you wound me." Her ever present grin is unwavering. "You know you like it." She punctuates her sentence by squeezing Ophelia's hips again.
She shoves the woman in the chest, rolling her eyes. "You know, you're really touchy." Ophelia gestures to the hands on her hips. "Do you have to always grab me like this?"
Samantha's eyes turn curious. "You mean like this?" Her grip goes even tighter and suddenly, Ophelia is being flipped. Her breath leaves her in a whoosh, her back hitting the mattress. Samantha straddles her, quickly taking Ophelia's wrists and pinning them on either side of her head.
That look, that dangerous glint is back in her eyes. Ophelia's stomach flutters. Heart beating wildly in her chest, Ophelia turns her head away. "You're annoying."
She feels Samantha shift on top of her. "I'll make you a deal, get out of this hold and I'll stop being so, what did you call it? Touchy? Yeah, I'll stop being so touchy with you."
Well, shit. Ophelia isn't getting out from under her. Samantha is a heavy weight over her stomach, the woman is practically squeezing her with her thighs to keep Ophelia from moving. She had already tried to move her arms and unsurprisingly, they didn't budge.
"I can't, you're not being fair." She knows it's childish, but Ophelia can't help it. This game or whatever Samantha is doing isn't fair.
"I can't go easy on you," She leans forward inches from Ophelia's face. "You would become even more spoiled."
Ophelia gasps, her irritation clear on her face. "I'm not spoiled."
"Yes, you are." Samantha leans back a fraction. "Want me to list times when you've acted like a spoiled brat?"
If she could punch this woman, Ophelia totally would. Yet, she can't move her arms so she goes for trying to knee Samantha off. "I'm not a brat!"
Samantha laughs at her outrage like it's the most hilarious thing she's seen. "Last week, the cafe ran out of chocolate pudding and you threw a tantrum."
She remembers that. "It wasn't a tantrum."
"You stomped your feet and sulked at the table." Samantha moves, placing both of Ophelia's wrists in one hand. She uses her now free hand to bop Ophelia on the nose. "I gave you mine, and it was like you were a whole new person. Smiling and everything."
Samantha starts to count on her fingers. "You didn't get your way with Dr. Davis and almost cried in my classroom 2 weeks ago."
"She was being mean and unreasonable!" Ophelia squirms in earnest, heat rising on her cheeks.
Her defense goes ignored, and Samantha completely bowls over her, continuing. "At the hotel last month, remember the bathroom?" Yes, Ophelia obviously remembered the bathroom. "You were behaving like a little girl and not a grown woman." Here, Samantha grabs her chin in her hand, forcing Ophelia's eyes onto her. "Lastly, when we first met."
"How was that being a brat?" She huffs out, they had discussed that interaction before.
"Because I wasn't nice to you, you thought I was rude and was going to kill you." Ah, yes. The phone call that Ophelia had with Aunt Azalea that Samantha overheard. "You jump to conclusions a lot."
She frowns but remains silent.
"The silent treatment? And you say you're not a brat." Samantha teases leaning closer.
"When I get out of this, know that I will come after you." Her ominous words only make Samatha chuckle.
Samantha presses her wrists further into the bed, baring her weight down on Ophelia. Her red hair tickles Ophelia's cheek where it faintly brushes against the heated skin. "I'd love to see you try."
Their staring contest turns heated. Ophelia's anger and very clear irritation are practically radiating off her. Samantha's eyes are filled with mirth, she bites her bottom lip, licking over it. Ophelia's eyes track the movement. How can she not? They're 3 inches apart from each other.
Samantha watches her, "Ophelia." Her eyes scan Ophelia's face.
"Yes?" She breathes shallowly, heart stuttering.
"Nothing," Finally, Samantha lets go of her wrists, rolling over and off Ophelia. "Go to sleep sweetheart, you need it."
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