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She's a tractor

Whenever Lydia slept on her back, which was always, she would snore. It had been, in fact, described to her many times by many different people. A rusty, dying chainsaw. A dragon with a head cold. A freight train. She had, quite literally, heard them all.

Tonight was really no different than any night, and like many, she was awoken not by the sweet whispered hiss of her roommates voice, but by something quite suddenly knocking into the side of her head, causing a loud snort, a gasp, and for her to sit up suddenly straight from where she had been lying down.

"Did you know almonds are a member of the peach family?" She blurted out, completely at random, blinking wide eyes and reaching up to push back the mass of tangled pale blue curls that were falling in front of her face.

She's a tractor

She blinked a few more times in rapid succession, then reached up her hand to yawn into it, a long and loud sound (though thankfully not nearly so loud as her snoring). "I'm sorrrry." Her voice came out sounding rather sleepy, and she let her arm drop, her gaze shifting to the side and down, to where the pillow Chris had thrown was sitting.

She picked it up and lobbed it back towards him, before laying back down, this time on her side instead of her back.

"S'not like...can control..." She started to say, but cut off as she began breathing heavily again, quite obviously having gone back to sleep.

----

Ten minutes later, she had rolled onto her back, and the tractor snores had started up again.

She's a tractor

Lydia woke up to an empty room, which was sad but not altogether surprising. It happened, on occasion, and was nothing to be alarmed about.

The note on her stomach caught her attention, however, and she picked it up to squint at it, trying to make out the words. Letting out a sigh, she closed her eyes, and let her arm fall back down again.

She had snored him right out of their cozy little home, and into the arms of either his cousin, Chel, or Dory.

Her cheeks began to blush as she thought about Chris and Dory. Together.

Sitting up abruptly, she scrambled out of bed, found her glasses, found a pen, and scrawled out a message back to Chris, which she left on his bed.

I'm sorry.

For not the first time, she wondered if Chris would be happier if she moved to the basement.

Shortly after this, she was dressed and gone, off to find a morning cup of coffee and go about her days business.

Lazy afternoon

Chris was reading a comic book, and Lydia was sitting on the floor with her back against the bed, engrossed in her own book, titled Monster Trilogy Guidebook: How to Find a Bigfoot, a Yeti and the Loch Ness Monster.

When Chris rolled over and shoved the comic book in her face, she blinked, stared at it for a moment, and then grinned.

"I still think you look like him." She giggled, pushing his comic to the side so that she could look at her own book again. "Though I don't understand why The Cap doesn't just let Black Widow sit on his lap?"

Lazy afternoon

"Well if I was Black Widow, I would have been more than happy to sit in Mr. Pretty Boy Cap's lap. She should have jumped at the opportunity. Aren't they married or something?" She mumbled, frowning, obviously paying more attention to her book now as she flipped to the next page.

"Or wait! Is he the gay one??" That might explain a few things.

Lazy afternoon

Chris's ears may have flushed just a little red at the visual. He squinted at his comic as if that would hide it. "Not married," he answered. There was a small pause. "Maybe gay," he said with a shrug. "Who knows with him and Bucky."

Aftermath

There were nights, many nights in fact, when Lydia slept quite soundly, never stirring until her typical early morning wake up, her internal clock almost always allowing her to rise on time with no need for an alarm. There were other nights, however, nights like these ones, rare nights where she could appear to be sleeping quite soundly, and just the smallest thing could awaken her, like some kind of trigger being pulled or a button pushed.

This night, the second Chris stifled a sob into a pillow, her eyes flew open. "Chris?" She hissed into the darkness, sitting up onto her elbows, blinking several times and letting out a long yawn. "Chris, is that you?" She whispered, the sound of sheets and blankets rustling as she began to worm her way out of her bed.

A thud, and she was crossing the floor to where he was supposed to be sleeping, before she plunked herself down and scooted up next to him.

"What's wrong?" She asked, leaning in close and peering at him. It did not occur to her at all that he might not want her to know.