Before I know it, I'm yawning and leaning heavily on Annabelle. She wraps an arm around me to keep me upright, but I think it's getting increasingly difficult.

"M'kay," she says, struggling to hold me up and eventually just scooping me up. She walks to her bedroom and flops me on top of the covers.

She comes over and sits across from me, with her feet tucked under her. Her shirt is hanging a little bit loosely, and I can see a bit of the top of her torso.

We kind of just each drink in the sight of each other.

Oh it's just you and I tonight

Why don't you figure my heart out?

We meet each other's eyes and blush. I feel kind of nervous, but I know that Annabelle wouldn't do anything if I told her I was uncomfortable.

Annabelle gestures to my tank top. "Can I take it off?" I feel my face go red, and I cough.

"Um ... well ... I don't ... uh ... know if you know this ... but ... I'm ... um ... asexual?" It comes out like a question. "And ... um ... I don't wanna --"

"Oh, I know!" Annabelle cuts me off brightly. "Yeah, Jenna told me. She figured it was best that I knew. I wasn't gonna do anything, I just wanted to see you."

If possible, I go even redder.

"If you don't want to, that's okay," Annabelle reassures me, as if worried that she's overstepped.

"No," I say slowly, as I have to fish out the word. I try to convey what I feel through my gaze, but eventually decide that the things I want to say are easiest to say through actions. So I take the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head.

I feel sort of self-conscious. I'm definitely not skinny, though I am healthy. Despite what all my Insomnia visits may tell you.

Annabelle, noticing my slight fidgeting, makes a split-second decision, and pulls hers off too.

We make some sort of mental agreement to not acknowledge the other's staring. It'd just make everything awkward.

The only things that I can focus on are her shoulders. They're just as cocoa-colored as the rest of her, but they're dusted with freckles. Way more than she has scattered across her cheeks and nose. If there is to be a single thing I adore most in the world, it is when people have freckles on their shoulders. And I keep thinking that Annabelle can't get any more gorgeous, yet she keeps proving me wrong.

Push your lack of chest out, look at my hair

God, I love the way you love yourself

And I stretch my arm out and dance my fingertips across the freckles and across her collarbones.

And she stretches her arm out and dances her fingertips across the soft skin of my waist, tracing the curves in it. Her fingers feel cool against my warm skin.

And if there has been any time I've felt very comfortable in my own body, it clearly wasn't enough because I've never felt more content.

With Annabelle, my datemate, sitting here, fully accepting me with all my weird accessories. With knowing somehow that even if nothing can truly last forever, we'll stay together until we can't.

With the lingering taste of powdered sugar and almond on both of our lips and in the air. With the 1975 playing in the background.

We stay like this for a while, just drinking in the sight. It's nice and peaceful.

And then I yawn unexpectedly, causing us both to jump. Seconds later, Annabelle's yawning behind a hand and it's really adorable.

"Wanna go to sleep?" she asks sleepily. "You reminded me of how tired I am. How late is it?"

"Pretty late, probably," I reply. I slide off the bed and stumble into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Annabelle walks in after me and joins me at the sink.

She starts playing with my hair. I smile up into the mirror, all the while catching sight of our ever-prominent height difference. I blush slightly as she sweeps it all into a cute little ponytail thing and pats me on the head happily.

Sleepy Annabelle might be my favorite Annabelle. Along with all the other Annabelles, of course.

"Did you figure my heart out?" I ask her when she finally joins me under the covers. I feel her cuddle back into me, feel her skin against mine and it is such a peaceful way to exist.

I hear her sigh as I slip my arms around her waist and giggle at the question. "I'm still trying, but I may be a lil bit closer to it."

"Mmm." I nose the cold tip of my nose into the warm space between her neck and shoulder.

My heart feels so light and happy, and my mind feels so at peace.

It takes me a little while to fall asleep. Annabelle's knocked out instantly but it's taken me at least ten minutes to be relaxed enough for as long as I can remember. It's just how I am at this point.

But I do get to look at Annabelle a little longer. I never understood why people think it's creepy to watch someone while they sleep. I've always thought it was sweet. I wonder ... what do I look like with absolutely nothing on my mind?

Annabelle's heavy eyelashes form little crescents on her cheeks and her mouth is tipped up in the tiniest of smiles, as if her dream is pleasant. Her body looks softened by comfort. Her hair, which she pulls up into a sloppy knot when she sleeps, has this silky look and feel to it.

This makes me think of Brendon Urie. Particularly his velvet voice, which has sang me to sleep on more occasions than I can count.

And it's these thoughts and Annabelle's rhythmic breathing and therapeutic presence that finally lull me to sleep.

a/n: i would recommend listening to heart out by the 1975 while reading this (it's mentioned, and i just think it fits idk it's your choice) and also i like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it fits for the second part

i don't have anything else to really say so have a hug *hug*