Lana Gets a Love Letter

Author's Notes:

For ease of reading: Thoughts and speech are indicated by single quotes and double quotes respectively[1], and perspective shifts are separated by two dashes on two separate lines.

The first letter is the actual body of smut. Outside the first letter, sexual assault survivor-ship is mentioned.

Enjoy!

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I was feeling a little lonely, since Kait hadn't come to visit me for a while. After eating my dinner and brushing my teeth, I threw on my comfy robes that Kait had gifted me a month or so ago. I waltzed into my bedroom, dimming the lamp before I practiced my piano for a short while.

Before bed, one final thing: check my messages. I'd sent a letter to Kait 2 days ago, but she hadn't responded yet.

Has she been ignoring me? Did I do something? I can't think of--Watching my train of thought derail, I put it back on the tracks, not letting my anxiety get the better of me.[2]

My sleepy eyes stared confusedly at the date: 8/17/5/11[3]

'Why is it configured like that? Shouldn't it be day 17, month of November, year 8, era 5?'

'Why is it year 8, day 17, era 5, month of November?'

'For the gods' sakes, why do some provinces still insist that months have a variable amount of days and that a week is 7 days instead of 10, and then list the order of their dates in a seemingly random way?'

I thought to open e-aggregate to search how many millennia it would actually take for the planet's rotation to slow down from 360-point-zero-zero-something or to find an astronomical phenomenon that would constitute a reason to have a number of days in in each month to vary, that wasn't the crazed religious ramblings of a hermit from several thousand years ago or weird dead traditionalists from shortly after the Hellfire war.

'Wait, why don't I know the reason it's ordered differently?' I shake my head, shooing away this train of thought that had long since derailed.

"Your meds have worn off. Stop getting distracted and pissed off at nothing," I sigh to myself, under my breath.

'Whatever; must be localized incorrectly. I'll fix it later.'

With a few clicks I opened my Cryptbox and checked my Cryptexts. Nothing.

Opening C-letters, I see nothing of note but some gods-forsaken spam letters from a service I used a grand total of once, which I marked as spam and deleted for the umpteenth time. 'I have to set it to whitelist instead of blacklist later.'

Before I get the chance to... ping.

'A new Crypt-letter.'

'No header though... Oh! This was probably Kait!' I thought, noticing the (likely deliberate) lack of text, and several attachments.

'You sent me a bunch of journal entries today, didn't you?' I silently asked no-one but myself, smiling with anticipation.

I opened the email, and sure enough, there were several pictures of her journal. The first attachment, however, was a picture of her... Nude, face[4] obscured by a note-card that read 'I miss you quite a bit, and since we aren't exclusive... Here is an entry on a fling I had somewhat recently, that I figured you might enjoy.'

I smiled. 'Buried in academic work and buried in warm bodies, and I'm still on her mind...'

I grabbed my vibrator, got comfortable, and began to read.

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September 10th.

I wrote this entry as closely in accordance with how I experienced as possible, to relive it again as I see fit, or perhaps share