As soon as I touched the pillow that evening, I was out like a light, deep in slumber. It felt like mere seconds had passed when the next morning, my alarm clock rudely reminded me of my work obligations – And the fact that I didn't have a damn car to get there.
"Shit, Shit, Shit!"
All the memories from the previous night hit me like a ton of bricks, and with cheeks blazing hot (among other heated up body parts), I leaped out of bed. No car meant bus. And finding a reliable bus line in Bon Temps was about as likely as finding a unicorn taking a leak in Times Square.
After sleeping like a baby, I was already running late. I quickly brushed my teeth. I had wanted to shower, but that was a luxury I had to skip. My hair hung greasy in my face, so I threw it up in a high ponytail, channeling my inner Sookie Stackhouse, and then scrambled into my work clothes at lightspeed.
No coffee was a no-go, but my old rusty coffee maker would take at least 15 minutes to brew something drinkable. So, I had to hit the road without my morning caffeine fix. Worst day ever. As I stormed out the front door, my bag slipping off my shoulder as I almost forgot my keys in my apartment. Quick on my feet, or rather, as quick as I in my caffeine-deprived state could be, I had the brilliant idea to stop the slamming door with my fingers in the door frame like an elevator door.
"Motherfucking chicken shit!"My crushed fingers throbbed painfully as I snatched my keys from the side table with my other hand. Cursing, I was about to head out when I froze mid-breath."Motherfucker!"
There it was. My car. Washed and, by the looks of it, polished, sitting in my driveway. I slapped my hand against my forehead only to inhale sharply afterward. Freshly bruised. Pain. Right.
I tried to make sense of it all.
There were two possibilities.
Either I had dreamt up last night's events and hadn't actually driven to another city to track down a murderer with Sookie, ooooor...
I gritted my teeth.
Or Mr. Control Freak had brought my car back to me overnight and even had it washed in the process! And I was damn sure it was freshly washed! It hadn't seen a scrub since I bought it over 3 years ago. Or seen the inside of a car wash, for that matter.
Suspiciously, I opened the manually locked door. It was odd not to hear the usual creak that accompanied the door. Great, my door had been repaired as well. I slumped into my seat unease creeping up at me. Instantly, I was enveloped in unfamiliar scents. Damn, it even smelled good!
Like pine and oak and... Christmas tree? I felt like a whole forest had made itself at home in my car, and I was taking a stroll through the trees.
It smells like Eric, you crazy, all-encompassing freak!
Ah yes, there it was again. My mind, irritating as ever. If this kept up, I'd try to exorcise it. The judgy bitch was really getting on my nerves...
I rolled my eyes. My gaze fell on my passenger seat where an expensive-looking white envelope lay. The meticulous calligraphy caught my eye immediately.
Ash,
Even without opening it, I knew who it was from.
I told you so. This whole thing reeks of Eric!
Ba-dum-tss. Wordplay. Now my inner voice was a comedian too.
And here's another one: This whole thing here has Eric written all over it
I laughed out loud and then clapped my hands over my mouth in shock.
Oh my God, I was slowly losing it! I was telling myself jokes!
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/216574620-288-k91899.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
The Guily Ones
FanfictionAsh is on a rampage. Her last goal: Killing Eric Northman! After her boyfriend Tom is killed in New York by a handsome looking stranger she makes it her life mission to revenge his death. With the grand revelation she finally finds a clue as to who...