Sheila and yourself have been dating since you two were much younger, now you two share an apartment with one another, which she loves to reside in. She plays her video games and much more as if it were some sort of tradition, a need to do it more than an hour each day. She just sinks into her chair, whether it be spinning in a circle, blaring her music in her earphones on complaint about things she's doing or watching on her monitor. Today was no different.

...

"God damn it!"

Sheila blurted out, the Irish woman was finished watching the end of a show she was invested in, its final season finally done and she was... mixed. You could see it in how her fingers clutched at her black hair, she wanted to rip it out but some parts of it were... satisfying enough. But of course she had to turn to you, her chair twisting to face you as her hands slipped into her pockets.

"I wanna be a writer just to change up a few things... like, it shouldn't be that hard should it?... shouldn't it?"

Sheila fiddled with the tiny plush in her left jacket pocket, her blue eyes adverted down to the floor, she was thinking of what she was going to say next.