maeve monroe was never interested in men the way other girls were. hell, she wasn't interested in anything besides her writing, really. growing up in a strict catholic household only pushed her further from men.
that was until miles lincoln stumble...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
i hope you enjoy. taking a break from fanfiction & starting something a little more intimate and real.
------
maeve monroe was never interested in men the way other girls were. hell, she wasn't interested in anything besides her writing, really. growing up in a strict catholic household only pushed her further from men.
she left home the day she turned eighteen, desperate to get away from the tight grasps her parents had on her. she settled in a run-down apartment in seattle and began pursuing her writing career. she paid the bills with the little money she made from her cleaning service job.
a maid and a writer, "how hopeless.." her mother had told her. there was a good reason they were barely on speaking terms.
she wasn't a maid. she hated that idea. she simply traveled home to home cleaning with a small crew. they'd become quite close over the last three years.
there was barbara, maeve's boss. an older woman. she was lively and kind. always smelled of cigarettes and hairspray. her frizzy red hair was beginning to grey at the roots.
isabelle, a middle-aged single mom of twins. shoulder length blonde hair, tired eyes. she mostly kept to herself.
and ruby. ruby was the closest thing to a sister that maeve had. dark mahogany skin, long locks of coily hair. a contagious laugh. she and maeve spent their days off together. thrifting, writing, watching movies. they'd even joined a book club. ruby was a college student studying to be a psychologist. she was the most emotionally intelligent person that maeve knew. it made her wonder how someone the same age as her could be so put together.
maeve felt like she was a rather average woman. she had brown hair that reached her breasts. dark brown eyes. a whopping 5'5. the only thing she'd admired about herself was her freckles. she'd gotten them from her father. he was a ginger, freckled man. she wonders what she would've looked like with red hair.
she loved to write poetry. mostly about her own feelings. her ache to love someone. to be loved. her desires, and the lust the wishes she could experience.
sometimes, she would write about her mother, but only when she was sad.
"maeve?" a voice whispered. she felt a nudge on her shoulder. she looked up at the woman in front of her. ruby.
"wake up, we're here."
she rubbed her eyes and sat up, peering outside the window of the cleaning van they were inside of. a beautiful home with large glass windows stood in front of her, guarded by a tall stone gate. she watched as barbara pressed a call button.
"please state your name and agency."
barbara squinted at the microphone. "u-um, barbara moore. seattle city cleans. our service was requested here."
