Chapter Text
Penny woke up early. This wasn't entirely out of the ordinary; she was never a consistent sleeper. Sometimes she woke up to her alarm, sometimes she slept right through it, and sometimes she didn't sleep at all. And sometimes, like this morning, she woke up several hours early. She stayed in bed for a few minutes, watching Agatha still sleeping peacefully. How wonderful it was that she was breathing, that they were both breathing.
She stretched out her arms and gazed at her hands. Penny didn't think she would ever get tired of seeing her own warm ruddy brown skin, of tracing the lines on her palms, of the fact that her skin was soft and squishy. Somehow, these things always managed to surprise her. Rather, the lack of ghost-white porcelain and multicolored gloves surprised her. Even after all these months, each time she woke up brought with it a miniature version of the wonder and relief she'd felt that fateful day. According to the others, she wasn't alone in the feeling.
She wobbled as she stood up and stretched some more. Then she brushed her hair- actual hair, not polygons- though it was too short to really need it, the compulsion remained and besides, it felt nice. A part of her wanted to stay here in this room with Agatha forever. But going back to sleep wasn't in the cards for her, she could tell. This would be a wide-awake day, but even so she wanted coffee. Wanting coffee was her default state.
She caught sight of herself in the long mirror Agatha had insisted stay just by the bedroom door. The apartment had a lot of mirrors, the number ever increasing, and she didn't particularly mind. Her mind always buffered a moment when she saw her own face, but over time she'd become faster to recognize herself. Maybe one day she'd know what she looked like instantly again. Maybe not.
She was also caught off guard by what she was wearing: one of Agatha's t-shirts. While she'd been told that stealing clothes was a part of girlfriend etiquette, it still somehow felt rude. It was unfair, she thought, that all her own clothes were too small for Agatha. But she'd insisted, and the shirt was soft and smelled nice. She could wear anything she wanted, in theory anyway, and she decided that putting on 'real clothes' could wait.
Going through the soothing, practiced motions of filling and starting the coffee maker marked her as fully awake. Once that was done, she went over to the window and cautiously peeled back the curtain. The apartment didn't used to have curtains, but a while back Penny mentioned that all the sunlight got to be overwhelming sometimes, and the next day heavy gray curtains mysteriously appeared. The sun was just rising now, wow, it was early.
The world outside was quiet, save for an overeager bird or two, all all green and gray and black and bathed in golden light. There were lots of other apartment buildings around, and Penny thought passively that they were full of other people, some still dreaming, some rising early like her, because this was the real world and everyone in it was living their own real life. The sonder was enough to send her spiraling if she let it, so she didn't linger on the thought for long.
The world within the apartment was even calmer, all the perfect stillness of a day not quite started. It was full of books and knick-knacks and decorations that bordered on kitsch, which she loved. Most of it was Agatha's stuff, of course, and a few boxes of Penny's things sat in the living room waiting to be unpacked. She'd have to get on that, she decided as she wandered back to the kitchen, absentmindedly drumming her fingers on the cold smoothness of the counter.
Soon, Agatha would wake up, and after having her own oh, wow, skin moment she'd probably want a kiss good morning. And maybe she'd decide it was too quiet, as she often did, and she'd put on music and they'd dance rhythmless around the room together. And then Agatha would go to work, and then Penny would, and the day would go on as so many days did, and she liked that.
For now, though, she stood alone in the kitchen, basking in the dim and quiet morning and breathing in the scent of fresh coffee.