Rachel doesn't understand why; all she knows is that most often she wakes up more tired than she was when she fell asleep. She knows there is probably some science-y or logical explanation for this, but rarely in her life has she ever cared much for such things – and it's not like knowing will stop her from being tired anyway – so she just lets the issue be. Mostly. (Complaining happens from time to time – when she can manage coherent sentences.)

Today, as she forces herself out of bed, the tiredness is heavy, and she stumbles several times while crossing the room as she tries to rub the sleep from her eyes. She barely makes it into the hallway when she stops, eyes suddenly widening at a pleasant discovery. Namely, the smell of chocolate. And Rachel knew from years of living with her current loftmate (and kind of boyfriend) that this could mean one thing.

Hot chocolate.

She makes her way to the kitchen, awake enough to smile as she confirms her hopes at the sight of Nico standing in the kitchen, two mugs of hot chocolate sitting on the counter in front of him. Without a word, she snatches one and takes a long sip. "Oh, gods, this is good."

"Good morning to you, too." Nico rolls his eyes. She rolls hers right back before setting her mug down and stands up on her tiptoes to give him a long kiss.

She pulls away first, grabbing for her hot chocolate again and taking another drink. Nico smirks, but she can see the smile in his eyes. He twists a section of her hair around his fingers and says, "You look like hell."

Swatting his chest, she counters, "Better than you."

He laughs and she smiles, tiredness forgotten.