How We Met

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' Y/N come downstairs,'

Was what I heard.

The shrill voice of my sibling. ( Just go with this for now)

'5 more hours,' I groaned.

'5 more hours my ass,'

(Italics are Y/N's thoughts).

Bitch.

I got up.

Washed my face, brushed my teeth, did a f/H (favourite hairstyle).

Damn, I look good today.

Then I ran downstairs to kill my sibling for waking me up so early

Hehe.

' We're going to meet the Madrigals,'

'Madriwhat?'

'Madrigals you dumbass,'

'Oh shut up, I look better than you at least,'

'Whatever,'

'See you're not gonna deny it?'

'Ok fine, whatever you say, anyways make a good impression, I don't want them to think of us as a crackhead family because of you,'

'They're only going to think that because of you, dear sibling,' I said, sti - cking my tounge out.

'Whatever, you act like a 5 year old,'

'You look like one,'

Boring Boring Boring .  I hated walking.
Ooh, there's someone juggling sticks that are on fire, Ima go there.

That was how I met the one person who changed my life.

The notorious Mirabel Madrigal.

It was all a simple meeting.

Not extravagant.

But simple things are the worst.

Well, screw the quality of writing. I literally made a shitty one but yea

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