Not Good at Nice

Aeryn wakes up early, almost automatically feeling ready to do whatever she needs to do today. You'd think she'd been born to fight things or something. Of course, any tough warriorness she might feel is slightly marred when she looks over and sees the kitten from yesterday sleeping on John's head.

She gets up out of bed quietly, so as not to disturb either of them- not so much to be nice but because he can probably handle a clingy yet adorable kitten better than she can- but as soon as she's standing, the kitten has made its way underfoot and is attemping to play with her bare toes.

"Ow," Aeryn hisses. "None of that."

The kitten swipes at her little toe in reply.

( fluff under the cut, you have been warned )

In the last few days, Aeryn's fought with one friend, maybe past the point of being fixable, been attacked by another, figured out another had a crush on her, and then decided another probably isn't going to want much to do with her unless she fixes the first thing, which she isn't sure she wants to do.

Long after Molly leaves 209, Aeryn heads down the hall, opening the door with her key. Careful not to wake John, she closes the door and crosses the room to crawl into bed next to him. Not that she can manage to do anything right there, either, this week. Whatever, she's not leaving.

It really was a lot less complicated back when all her friends did was help her get sentenced to death.

Aeryn had gone to the gym last night just to uncoil a bit. That hadn't exactly happened.

She didn't sleep well, either, which is today's excuse for being up early, still clearing her throat as she lays in bed and being very glad that there's no bruising for John to panic over.

She thought Rory canceled this week, dammit.