If I met myself again @finalgirlish

Anne drove Catherine of Aragon out of her mind. Everyone else perceived her as entertaining and funny, but Catherine couldn't stand being around her for too much time. At least the others had "days off" where they would be exhausted and would not bother too much. The only time Anne stopped, was while sleeping, but she stayed up very late at night and woke up first in the morning. Actually sometimes, after any of them made clear that they weren't enjoying her as much as usual, she would leave. To do what? Only God knows. But she would leave.

When they started living together, Catherine and Jane were preoccupied they would argue every day. That was the Anne Boleyn they used to know. Her temper managed to be shorter that Henry's. But for some reason, Anne was no longer like that. She enjoyed teasing, and rarely raised her voice in anger. She was unrecognizable.

Catherine woke up in the middle of the night, hearing chatting from the living room. It wasn't that that woke her up, but it was mildly annoying. She needed chamomile.

A shape was on the sofa, in front of the telly, the source of the chattering. The shape shook as Catherine walked in. It was Anne, wrapped in a blanket, with a hoodie on, her face naked and her hair down, but it was clearly Anne Boleyn.

-You scared me, Anne! Do you even sleep?

-Sorry, didn't mean to- said the other, her voice nothing more than a whisper.

Although hanging out with her was the last thing Catherine would ever want to do, she knew she had to make two mugs of chamomile and join the other queen on the sofa.

-Drink it, it's going to help you sleep

-I can't, sorry. You enjoy it though,- once again the voice was barely audible.

Catherine looked at Anne. She hadn't cried, but her face was like covered by a veil of sadness and melancholy. She wasn't looking at the telly, but rather at the wall next to it, but she didn't seem to see anything. She also looked tired, as if she had been avoiding to sleep for a while. She probably felt her eyelids heavy and the pull of slumber and actively was fighting against it. The tv was probably a method to stop her from falling asleep.

At moments, during her life, Catherine had felt empty. Those moments were the darkest of her life, but they weren't only during the bad times. Sometimes she still felt like that. Probably Anne felt like that too. 

Catherine talked, her voice a whisper. -Do you have nightmares?

-No,- Anne didn't feel present. It was like her brain answered the question, but it had nothing to do with the sentient part of her brain. - They cheer though

Although she reminded everyone the way she died a good amount of times, it was easy to forget that Anne died in front of a crowd. A crowd that hated her and only wanted her dead.

Catherine moved her arm on Anne's shoulder and hugged her. Anne didn't do anything. She really felt somewhere else.

More time passed. Catherine really wanted to sleep, but looking at the girl laying next to her, eyes wide open, curled up, refusing to sleep not to relive the worst moments on her life, made he feel like she needed to stay until morning. Anne seemed so little. It was like she were a small animal who spent the night out in a storm.

Anne broke the semi-silence. -I am the fairest one now, yet you are still the prettier one.

Catherine held the other tighter. 

They stayed like that until Catherine succumbed to sleep, and maybe even until Anne decided it was time to start the day.

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