𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒, jj maybank [ rewrite ]

𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆, siblings

NINE

❝ If he really loved us and he was still alive, he'd be back here by now! ❞

*ೃ༄

         AS THE COCKEREL SQUAWKS outside her window, Ava's eyes fly open and she flips herself over in her bed, burying her face in her pillow as she lets out a loud groan. As she curls her fists around the pillow, she grunts in pain, causing her to raise her head and look at her bright red knuckles. Her eyes widen as she fully sits herself up, flexing her knuckles and wincing at the sting.

A knock rattles her door, and she lets out a loud hum, allowing access to whoever requested it.

"Well, well, Ava Routledge, it's been a while."

Eyebrows shooting up, Ava's head robotically turns to look over at the door and she forces a smile onto her face, "It's been a. . . week."

The woman chuckles, head turning as she peers around the teenager's messy room, "The blonde kid in here with you? You two are usually joined at the hip."

"No, he's not here," Ava mutters, pushing herself from her bed as she lets out a yawn before smirking over at the older woman happily, "Hey, Peterkin."

Sheriff Peterkin; the twins only form of any adult stability in their life. Whenever either of them ended up at the station, Peterkin would always be the first and only one to help. She likes to drop by the Chateau most weeks, making sure that the pair aren't creating too much trouble. In all honest, Peterkin is the only adult Ava has actually properly trusted, even more than her own father.

"Hey, Ava," The Sheriff smiles, stepping aside to let the young girl exit her room and step out into the hallway, "Where's John B? He around?"

Turning her back to the woman as she heads towards the kitchen, Ava squeezes her eyes shut in memory of the previous night and how her brother was almost drowned by a Kook. The Sheriff has obviously heard of last nights events, giving the Routledge girl a reasoning for her check in.

"He's in his room," Ava grumbles, whirling around on her heel and stepping past the woman once more towards her brother's room, "I'll get him for you."

She nudges her brother's door open with her shoulder as she runs a hand through her messy hair before stepping into her father's old room. She looks over at the bed, grimacing slightly at the large purple bruises on her twin's face. She trudges over, tapping his arm gently in an attempt not to injure him further.

"John, wake up," She snarls, her hits coming more aggressive the longer he remains asleep, "John!"

Letting out a groan, his eyelids flicker open and his gaze snaps over to his sister hovering over him with a scowl, "Hello?" He grunts, "You need something?"