So Sasha. She's…interesting, and she's also actively abusive. This is some speculation into Anne's feelings about Sasha because I felt like exploring that. Uhh. So warnings for emotional manipulation and abusive friends/toxic friendships, obviously we don't have much background on them so I don't mention any specific instances just general feelings. You can interpret Anne's (vaguely defined) positive feelings toward Sasha here as romantic or platonic, I didn't have a particular one in mind, just that they ran deep.
Flaxen tresses and snowy eyes
Alabaster skin, smooth and young
She is frozen in your mind
You are dull next to her
Sepia and monochrome to her colors
She is burned into your eyelids like a bright light
Your face is a shock in the mirror
You know hers better
Even to yourself you are secondary to her
Replaying your lives on loop
You think this is torture, it must be
But she is branded onto every part of you
Seared into memory, carved into bones, written into your DNA to love her
You want to forget
You want to erase her from your head
Close your eyes and have all those twisted memories vanish like smoke
Those feelings, that tangled jumble
Forever a whirlwind of "was it my fault"s and "what could have been"s and "what if"s
And you need her like you will never need anyone else
You want her back so desperately
You still love her more than you can fathom
After all this time
Everything she did
You'd give her anything she asked for
Your heart, your head, your body
Anything she wants
Click her fingers and you'll hand it over
You know it's not love
But it feels so close
This is devotion
Worship
Conditioned and tailored and did she even know?
Did she know when she started?
Would she have cared?
Would she have stopped if you'd told her?
Apologized if you'd said something earlier?
She loves you deep down, right?
She must have once
You were so young—she can't have meant for…this, can she?
You don't know what to think anymore
Tired and worn out and wishing it would all just go away
But you can't escape her
She'll always be there in the back of your mind, flaxen hair flying in the wind and snowy eyes bright with rage
Red smeared down her cheek
Her sword at your neck
You thought she might kill you
You think you might have killed her that day
And now everything is a wash of blue, and her snowy eyes are red with fury this time, and you're glad it's not directed at you
But the warmth you always looked for in her eyes, the summer sky you caught a glimpse of even on that tower, is gone now
Burned away and replaced with a boiling rage
It'll char you to ashes, but her warmth feels so good