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England(Arthur Kirkland) X reader: green eyes ch13
Sighing, you roll over in your bed. You just can’t seem to sleep tonight, and the rain hammering against your window is keeping you awake. Another thunder crash and lightning flash echoes through the empty room as the storm ranges on outside. Once again, Liz is off somewhere, so having no one to talk to is a pain during a storm. You’re not afraid of them, but just as you dose off, a loud rumble sounds and you jolt awake again. This is such a pain.
You count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6-
That six seconds. You’re not even close to the heart of the storm, meaning it’s only going to get worse. Groaning your try to lull yourself into sleep with the sounds of nature, but not long after your eyes begin to droop, there’s a new, more artificial sound.
Sitting up, you glance over to the door, where a soft ratting can be heard. Cautiously, you move out of bed and over to it, eyeing it up and down before prying it open an inch.
England(Arthur Kirkland) X reader: green eyes ch16
After the night you shared, you notice Arthur becoming more and more stressed. This scholarship is more important than you could have imagined, and now you constantly worry that he is pushing himself too hard.
Looking over at your calendar you sigh. It’s not long until Arthur leaves, if he leaves. Which you want him to, because it’s the best thing for him. Yeah, let’s go with that for now. But your stomach twists uncomfortably as you think about him going, and your mind is plagued with images of him, smiling, frowning, glaring. This can’t be healthy. Quickly, you shake off the negative thoughts before you can even think of what will happen to your relationship if, when he goes, and march out of your room towards the main block, not stopping until you’re outside the council room. Pausing, you listen for any sign of Arthur, and after a long strand of cursing, you conclude he is in fact in the office. No surprise.
“Artur, ‘ou need
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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