( perhaps not at all shockingly, the knowledge that this is his room does very little to soothe the burgeoning panic in her. she hadn't really entertained the thought that this might be a dream, but it feels less and less falsified with each tense breath. so she's just — here. out of the woods, into the rich people house.

she does draw the curtains, though that moment of listening is quickly followed up by rudely tossing open the doors of sullivan's wardrobe, picking out a shirt big enough to rest mid thigh on her. she undoes the buttons of her sleep shirt, as if she's ever owned a matching pair of pajamas, and exchanges the clothes easily. she doesn't imagine she'll find a bra in his closet, and so just crosses her arms over her chest before facing him, banding her boobs down. )

"Showed up"? I don't know — last night, I guess. You mean this happens a lot? Random people waking up in your bed?