Twenty-seven hours.

That was the amount of time you had been awake, laying in bed, writing this damn story for your e-friend. 'A lemon,' you thought bitterly, 'Of all the things she would desire for her birthday, of all the crap that she could've weaseled out of me, the broad picks a lemon.' Your friend, whose name that shan't be mentioned, was a Narutard. A hopeless, anime-boy crazy Narutard. You loved her though, and you even had a feeling she would want a story from you. Sure, you never expected her to be so foreword in saying 'give me sexy smut to read' before she blew out the candles of her birthday cake, but it's not like that idea had not crossed your mind. You never particularly liked writing lemons, mainly because you've never experienced 'that wonderful thing', and you figured she would know that by now.

That being said, you could not deny your best friend's birthday wish, now could you? So, now, here you are, laying in bed with the computer on your tummy and your eyes crusting shut from the miniature naps you've taken along the way. The whole twenty-something hours had not been spent on just writing; some of it was spent on research, changing the underwear you had on- for obvious reasons -and eating to refuel the lost energy. It was not that you were a bad writer-you weren't 'awesome', but your work was good enough to be tolerated and given compliments-oh, gosh no. It was the simple fact that you were a person that liked to experience what you wrote about, because that was what made all your works good.

With a huff, you placed your arms at your sides and read aloud the little work you had done for the passed hour or two.

"Sasuke looked deep into her eyes, his grip on her wrists increasing. 'Say it,' he whispered to her, 'Tell me what you want.' The body below him struggled to escape his grasp only to be kept in the same place. 'Get off!' she spat, 'I.. I hate you, get off me, Uchiha!' His mouth twitched into a sly smile as his face inched closer to hers. His hot breath pouring over her skin, he moved his lips to her ear.
'You're a dirty liar.'"

So far, it sounded alright, there did not seem to be anything much wrong with the little passage. Well, beside the fact that you felt like a dirty pervert for putting those words down in that order, but you would happily trade your integrity in for friendship.

'...I knew I should've stayed a loner when I had the chance.'

With a tired sigh, you decide to get some sleep. It's not like the story's going to go anywhere, right? You clicked the magical 'save' button three times, to make sure it actually got it, exited out of the word processor and turned off the computer. The words 'sleepy', 'rest', and 'celibacy' seemed to ring painfully though your head until you rolled over and let your body fully relax. Seconds later you drifted off to sleep, a proud smile on your face. 'You did good, kid,' you thought happily, 'Just a few more paragraphs and you're done.'

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