[It’s late. Mia is tired. The bags under her eyes have bags. It’s that bad. Sleep evades her, as per usual, and she finds herself at the laundromat.
Keeping to herself, sitting scrunched up in a chair next to her spinning machine with her boots kicked up against the wall. Empty basket on the floor - the red spots are paint, don’t worry about it. The place is pretty empty - it’s way past midnight - so she takes up as much space as she pleases, occasionally casting a weary glance towards whoever or whatever makes any noise.]
mia allen | evil dead | ota.
Keeping to herself, sitting scrunched up in a chair next to her spinning machine with her boots kicked up against the wall. Empty basket on the floor - the red spots are paint, don’t worry about it. The place is pretty empty - it’s way past midnight - so she takes up as much space as she pleases, occasionally casting a weary glance towards whoever or whatever makes any noise.]