This Was Supposed to Be Nine Pages, What The Heck Happened?

I'm So Sorry

Original Author's Note: I am once again throwing my dignity out the window and writing this masterpiece. After almost two months, may I present my newest work with 20-fucking-something pages. This has been, without a doubt one of my best writing pieces, and I thank everyone for pushing me to write better (and finally get characters right). I may be asexual, but I can write some good ass smut if I try. Ladies, gents, and non-binaries, may I present to you my smut V2 Electric Boogaloo.
Present Author's Note: I am so sorry.

The sound of an alarm clock rang out in the sleeping quarters, a very annoying sound that made the people who heard it want to claw at their ears. The only person in the room slammed her fist down on it with enough force to crack the cheap plastic that encased that cursed sound. She groaned and rubbed at her drooping eyelids. Thankfully the sound stopped, but the clock still gave off its obnoxious fluorescent green glow. She hoped one day she could break it. Well, she was close, almost, one thing to cross off on her small list of accomplishments.

Abby straightened up and pushed the covers off her body. She looked across the room to see an empty bed. A frown crossed her face, pure disappointment yet again. He was here when she went to bed. Well, she put him there, but that's beside the point. A sudden ring from her phone scared her, squinting at the screen. Speaking of the devil, pressing the button, she replied to the call. "Hello?"

A tired yawn escaped the caffeine-deprived individual on the other line, poor Lukas. A workaholic obsessed with coffee and sleep-deprived all to hell (did I mention that they're both exhausted?). Abby wondered how the hell this man was still alive and didn't die from sleep deprivation. Lukas didn't come to sleep like any "normal" crewmate. No, Abby had to drag his ass here. That was a problem because he wasn't here right now; he was back in the security room. Thankfully Ricochet was good about drugging his coffee without him knowing-

"Wow, you really got me with sleeping pills," Lukas remarked. "You could have just left me in the security room so I could do my job."

"You can thank Ricochet for drugging you," Abby got out of bed and stretched her sore shoulder out. "I got tea to share with you, so see you in a bit, Mr. I-Only-Get-Two-Hours-of-Sleep-Everyday."

Abby hung up on him, shaking her head in disappointment. She really badly needed to talk to Lukas about a pressing matter. If anyone could help her, it was this tired individual. These two talked about everything and everyone, and I mean everyone. There were dangers when it came to the crew members and the environment they shared. Kale was a mercenary, White was a killing machine, Noah was a psychopath, and Lukas was basically a god. Scary, but nowhere near Abby and Lukas' level of petty shit talking. Originally it was moral support, but shit-talking became their new topic of fun to pass the time. Those two were on a whole new level; this judgment scared the entire crew.

Going over to her trunk to fetch whatever she needed for her night shift. She didn't feel like putting much effort into looking good today. Once her appearance was decent, she grabbed her gun and placed it in the holster. She would later strap it to her belt when she put her suit on.

All the other crewmates were still working, they would go to bed pretty soon. Abby just left so now they would be going in very soon. Finally outside, Abby felt a presence behind her. A familiar one at that, but it wasn't the one she wanted to see. She growled lowly, knowing what was going to happen next. She reached for her gun, and just like that, she turned around to find no one there. 'Tricky little fucker!' She thought to herself. Turning the other way, boom, there was Alexander. Such a thorn in her side, this fucker was such an annoyance. He liked to spy on people and dig at things he shouldn't. Their relationship was love/hate at best. Basically, they were near frenemies. Her gun aimed right at his helmet. He didn't bother putting his hands up, just as she didn't even bother taking the safety off.