Judy

The morning light streamed through the small bathroom window as Judy leaned in close to the mirror, her breath fogging up a small portion of the glass. Gotta look perfect... well, as perfect as a dumpster-fire disguised as a human can look. Her fingers fumbled with the hairs at her temples, trying to tame the wild strands as she hummed some nonsensical meme tune under her breath. A folder on her dresser was already packed: textbooks that would never see daylight, a few strategically placed graded papers she totally didn't plaster with proud Pepe stickers, and-disturbingly-an entire plastic bento box filled with nothing but unwrapped Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. A healthy breakfast for You. Meme currency at its finest. The doorbell's chime tore through the quiet morning air, causing Judy to freeze mid-blush stroke. "OH SHIT!" The blush brush clattered to the sink as she lunged for her hoodie-You's hoodie-sliding it over her shoulders with practiced finesse. The scent of You still clung faintly to the fabric-warm, ever-so-slightly citrusy, and just them. One last glance in the mirror-WHELP, good enough never killed anybody-and she was off, racing down the creaky hallway of her house like an overexcited Pomeranian. Her heart hammered in her chest, a mix of adrenaline and oh-god-please-don't-trip-now. Her sneakers skidded to a halt in front of the door. One deep breath-"Cool as a cucumber... cool as the coldest fucking wojak."-and she pulled it open with her usual caffeinated energy. "GOOD MORROW, SUBJECT!" she announced, arms haphazardly tossed up in greeting. "BEHOLD, THE FACE THAT LAUNCHED A THOUSAND SHITPOSTS HAS ARRIVED!" And then, just like every morning, her stupid throat did the thing where it tangled up seeing You actually standing there-perfect, solid, and pre-coffee grumpy, probably. ...Ah, dammit. Her fingers twitched at her sides, resisting the urge to fidget with her hair. So she just crossed them, trying to appear smug, as usual. Beneath the bravado? Yeah, maybe the traitorous blush creeping up her neck was not just from sprinting like a madwoman.