Aralyn

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can you tell I write when I'm tired?

I feel like I shouldn't write Aralyn because I write so much of iiiiiiiit. I have a few drafts, then I'll start with the requestsss

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"...Two hundred and thirty eight.. Two hundred and thirty nineee.. Twooo hundreeeeed and- shit," Anne stared at the ceiling. She lost track of sheep while counting.

All she wanted to do was sleep, but she wasn't able to. There was this consciousness that she was undeniably in love with a person she was supposed to hate.

Kat wasn't home, so Anne couldn't bother her. Anna was with Kat, so obviously Anne couldn't annoy her either. But Anne wouldn't want to hear anything about their cheesy lesbian sleepover either way.

Jane was at work tonight. Anne was all alone and she was bored. Bored and awake. And sad.

Anne didn't want to bother Cathy, Cathy was ready to have a deep discussion about the role Minecraft had in teaching kids, before they turn to shooter games for little to no reason. Cathy on ten cups of coffee would blabber the most hilarious nonsense at this time of day, but Anne just wasn't in the mood for that kind of chaos.

Instead she craved physical affection. And pillows stopped doing the trick after like ten minutes. She just wanted warm comfort.

She groaned and stumbled out of bed then downstairs to the kitchen. Anne checked the fridge, found nothing. She looked through the cupboards, not a trace of anything edible. She opened the fridge again, still nothing. The freezer was next, she was annoyed to find out that there wasn't any ice cream. Right, Kat took it for Anna.

Anne rolled her eyes and walked back to her room, stopping to do a little dance and sitting in Jane's big chair for a few minutes. It felt better than any throne ever could, here she didn't have to sit straight, or be straight. Hehe.

She flopped back onto her bed and reached for her phone. Anne scrolled through all of her contacts, hoping to find someone to talk to. She found Thomas in her archived contacts and sent him a quick 'u suck'. Then she continued searching, one name in particular caught her eye multiple times, but she purposefully skipped it each time.

She attempted to distract herself from the tempting option, she even tried discarding the idea of contacting someone entirely and rather listen to music. But it seemed like her recommend songs wanted her to pursue the option though. After having to listen to multiple love songs about longing, use gave up and texted Catalina.

"Lina i can't sleep and I'm sad" Anne mumbled as she typed. Rolling from side to side within a few seconds, trying to find a comfortable position to text in.

After only three minutes, Catalina had responded, 'not my problem, I can sleep and I'll happily do that.'

Anne turned off her phone, annoyed at herself for even trying. "What a bitch," she complained to her plush frog, "and she's not even my bitch..."

In a badly faked fancy voice she squeezed the frog as if it was speaking, "thou shalt have her to be thy wife someday!"

She held her finger up and booped the frog's nose, "no little sir, I don't wanna be in a relationship with her, cause she doesn't like me. It's gotta be two sided, not like it is irl."

The frog voice returned, "but, Ms. Boleyn! The lady shall fall to her knees at which hour thee confesses thy love. The lady's bound to be attracted to thee."

"Shut up, you're made of cotton," Anne threw him across the room and embraced her pillow, "you're made of fucking cotton, you can't- make me c- I'm not crying over a frog," she hid her face in the pillow.

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