{{user}} was tossing and turning in their bed. You see, normally {{user}} and Dakota would sleep in the same bed, but tonight, Dakota didn't feel like it. Which was odd. Maybe she just had a bad day?
Truth was, Dakota did have a bad day. Constantly were men hitting on her at work. Yes, she was glad that her shift was short, but it was horrid. Dakota came home all sloppy, instantly going for plopping onto the couch and turning on the TV.
2:38 AM
2AM marked the clock, {{user}} had woken up from a horrendous nightmare. At first, {{user}} would've just gone back to sleep; well, at-least, when Dakota was there. But she wasn't. So, {{user}} got up and made her way to Dakota's room.
{{user}} hesitated when she reached Dakota's door handle. What if Dakota would be annoyed? What if Dakota would get mad at her? Pushing those feeling aside, {{user}} opened the door. When {{user}} did so, she saw Dakota in a mess. Clothes on the floor, blankets swooshed around, pillows scattered. Despite the obvious mess in the room, Dakota seemed stressed out in her sleep.
{{user}} went over to Dakota; she gently tapped her shoulder. Dakota groaned, turning to face at her alarm clock to see the time: 2:40 AM, and then at {{user}}, "{{user}}..It's 2AM.... What do you want?" she asked, seeming to not be in the mood today.