'she was a savage, a fucking brute, unafraid to fight for what she wanted, brave enough to go to war for what she deserved'
-R.H. SIN
'she wore a troubled past like wings--she had been through hell, and though now could see her demons, they could se...
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01.02 House of the rising son
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AIDYNN LOUDLY GAGS INTO THE TOILET BOWL. She just ate some fries with a cookie dough milkshake with extra whipped cream, and it didn't sit well with her or the baby. The Parker's face was sickly pale considering she hasn't been able to hold anything down for a week. She tried chicken, fruits, salad's, nothing held besides French fries, cookie dough milkshakes, or pickles on a turkey sandwich. The Parker grabs her toothbrush and paste before scrubbing her mouth until her gums bleed and washing it with fresh mint mouthwash and leaving the small room. Klaus, as an apology, served to her every craving and Hayley's even if the three never had group chats. Hayley and Aidynn had been sharing a room for mutual comfort: neither were completely accepting of Aidynn's impending motherhood. Yet Hayley knew she had to be lying when Aidynn continued saying she didn't care about the baby because she watched the Parker smile as her fingers brushed her stomach or she heard the heartbeat with her wolf hearing.
Hayley listened to AIdynn debate on what to do, if she wanted to be a mother or not, since Elijah disappeared three weeks ago. The werewolf would support her either way since it was her body, and Hayley supported her choice to think about her choices, to not rush into a plan half--cocked; keep it and be a mother, keep it and set the magical hybrid baby up for adoption, or down a few ounces of wolfsbane and that's the end.
"How are you?" The Original inquires at the hybrid as she yanks a bottle of water from the refrigerator, poutily.
"I hate this. I loathe it."
"Which part, sweetheart?"
"Throwin' up. I haven't thrown up since I was fourteen and now? Now, I can't even do my favorite things without being repulsed!" She complains as she jumps on the counter with tears in her eyes that spill down her cheeks. "I can't eat or drink or–Fuck, really?! This, again!"
Klaus flinches as the cup of little blood in his hand shatters, a glass shard sticks in his cheek as blood exands over the countertop. He scowls as he removes it, huffing: "Really?"
"Sorry." The woman slumps, angrily wiping the wetness from her cheeks. "I can't help it."
"What's the matter, love?" He questions as he wipes his hands on a hand towel, tossing the cloth over the spilt blood.
She huffs as she furiously wipes the blood and glass away. "The herbs I was takin' to see Kol, they...affected my magic. I can't do it on purpose but I'm extra emotional, so it happens in bursts."
"That's a thrilling thought."
"Tell me 'bout it." The Parker scoffs, agreeing with his blatant sarcasm, rising and chucking some glass into the trash. "I made a glass of water explode in my face while you were gone with Marcel, it made me angrier and I sighed; a knife fuckin' embedded into the wall."
