Right? [Emily rolls her eyes, perching on the edge of Chris's desk. She sets down his mug, then stares at her own, not yet ready to breathe in the steam lest she pass out then and there.]
They're not as bad as when the gods fucked with our dreams, but that's not saying much.
[By far the worst thing is waking up alone when all she wants is to curl up against Matt for comfort.]
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They're not as bad as when the gods fucked with our dreams, but that's not saying much.
[By far the worst thing is waking up alone when all she wants is to curl up against Matt for comfort.]