“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” --glitchesexe
Family Sentence Starters@glitchesexe
Sayori lets out a slow and choppy breath, nestling back into Monika’s comforting form. Her back is to the club president, both kneeling atop Sayori’s bed. The vice-president had invited Monika over to her house–something she thought a good friend would do, at least every now and then. Things had gotten quiet around the club and it bewildered even Sayori.
She had even invited Natsuki and Yuri over but it had seemed as if the two had other things to do, much to her dismay. This was something she had wanted to do in order to liven everybody up, to make all of the club members feel more comfortable talking about anything and everything, given that they’d be interacting in an environment less stressful than a classroom.
But she was here with Monika and that was important to her now, at least. Even though she was saddened by the other two’s refusal to join them…it felt wrong to cancel, and unfair to Monika, who had accepted. They’d spent the last few hours sharing poems and writing together, even watching some videos online for some time before that.
Though, at some point, she flipped through some of her sadder and more personal poems, most of which had scribbles trough them, crossed out with light and hard lines alike due to a nagging insecurity that nothing she ever wrote would be good enough. Monika’s caring tone when she asked if everything was alright ran through her head again now.
It was hard to lie to Monika. Sayori could only ever remember her friend being kind and honest. Now that they spent every afternoon together in the club, she had grown to trust Monika quite a lot. Besides ø̸̤̭̠̣̝̬̓͂̒̉̅¬̶̧̪̫͍̆̆̎̚œ̴̧̪͇̭͉̼͍͌̆Ħ̵̧̖̙̦̬͛þ̷̢͖͚̼͚̮̹̺͈̽̈́̃͜Ă̵̩̬͙̤͈̘̭͑̏͐͒̀å̷̤̗̣͎̯̅̾́̌̀̑͐̕͝ţ̶̟̎̑̽, Monika was probably the most dependable person that Sayori knew. So, with just barely any more pressure from Monika, she vented for almost an hour and a half now.
She let everything out, everything that she could without feeling like she was betraying everyone she knew. During the conversation, her friend had snuck up behind her and given her a kind embrace, still unbroken, of which put stuttering in her words as she bit back her third indulgence into a sobbing conversation.
“I…I believe you…” she says quietly, breaking into a quiet cry, almost like dry heaving in that there was very little left to spill down her cheeks. It felt like a weight was slowly being lifted off her shoulders, only to be moved to her heart. She felt safe here, but her chest hurt so much. If only this sleepover could last forever.
She could feel safe forever, in Monika’s arms.
