Zora Monet Laguerre.
She's like a walking Barbie doll. Her hair and nails are
always done. Her outfits are always in season with the perfect designer shoes and bag to match.
She's perfect. Everything about her from head to toe is just, well- per...
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Sunday Morning
"Good morning," Ritchie swiped her thumb across Zora's cheek when they finally woke up the next morning— or technically afternoon since it was after 12pm.
At some point in the middle of the night, they'd fallen asleep on the couch in Ritchie's living room while watching a movie on the TV.
"Good morning Rebecca," Zora tried to hide her face for some reason, not wanting Ritchie to see what she really looks like when she first wakes up.
"Why you hiding your face like I haven't already seen you?"
"Because," she spoke from behind her hands. "I don't like when people see me before I brush my teeth and wash my face and all that."
"I don't care," Ritchie moved her hands from in front of her face and looked at her— really looked at her. And Zora is absolutely beautiful when she's completely natural, even if she doesn't like when the world sees her undone. She doesn't mind not wearing makeup, but even so, she wants to be well put together before anyone sees her.
"You don't care that I look crazy?"
"No... cause you don't look crazy. You look beautiful," Ritchie ran her thumb across Zora's cheek again, a lot slower this time until she reached her lips. "You're perfect."
"Don't call me that," Zora muttered. "Don't call me perfect. I hate that fucking word."
"Why do you hate being called perfect? Especially when that's what you strive so hard to be?"
"Because I just do," she felt around on the couch for her phone.
"Fair enough," Ritchie nodded because sometimes things don't need a deeper explanation than that.
"You know, it's been a while since I spent the night anywhere but my own house," Zora sat up on the couch and picked up her phone that was full of missed calls, voicemails, and text messages that she must have gotten while the two were sleeping.
"Oh really, you don't say?" Ritchie said very sarcastically because that fact was very obvious. "Trust me, I can tell Zora."
"How?"
"Because you kept saying 'it's getting late, I needa go. It's been a while since I spent the night away from home' until your ass fell asleep."
"Why don't I remember saying that?"
"Maybe it's all that wine you drank. You finished the whole damn bottle."
"I did?" She almost didn't believe her, because Zora can't remember the last time she drank enough to get herself drunk.
"Yeah, you was on one last night," Ritchie laughed just remembering it.
