She has returned, changed..
She was an innocent 15-year-old girl who had been through too much to list. Silently, she fights her own battles and tries to pull through. Eventually, she finds peace and comfort in her 5 brothers who help her heal over...
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AZALEA'S POV:
IT'S BEEN a week.
It's been a week and the Lauriers haven't reached out to me. They haven't attempted called me, make Elliott their birdie to deliver messages, haven't attempted to text me.. they haven't done anything. They've just.. left me alone.
And I'm not so sure how I feel about this. One side of me is certain that they've finally taken a hint and have decided to let me breathe, and then other is super wary about this and is certain that they're plotting shit and something way worse is coming my way. In all honesty, I'm leaning towards the latter.
Elliott has also been suspiciously quiet and sneaky. He hasn't been in his office all week and he seems to be.. avoiding me. I usually don't give a shit, but with this stunt the Lauriers seem to be pulling too, it's making me have second thoughts.
Elliott is one of the most loyal people I know.. when we're dealing with big shit. However, in his eyes, he'd classify this as a small thing, so they'd easily be able to win him over temporarily with something he really likes. And, they've known him longer than me.
They may not be my family, but they're his as much as I'm his family, if not then even more. So, they may have not even had to give him anything.
But, maybe I'm overthinking it and they're both just genuinely have stuff to do.
That's probably the case. That's hopefully the case. If the case is what I thought it was, I swear..
With a sigh, I close my eyes and lean my head back, a week's worth of fatigue suddenly hitting me. Dang, I think I can finally go to sleep. I've been so busy with Vincent and London, I haven't really had time to close my eyes or to rest my head. Now, I'm mostly done, I think I can finally go to fucking sleep.
Blinking to try and keep myself awake, I stand up from my rocking chair and walk to my room, which isn't that far from this office. Somehow, I make it to my bed without falling asleep or bashing my head into anything. I place my phone on my nightstand and fall face first into my bed, pulling my duvet over me. It might be around summer-time but I will always use a blanket or duvet. I don't sleep without something covering me.
My mind gets pretty far, but not far enough to ignore the ringing and buzzing coming from the phone on the nightstand. Whoever is calling me, I hate them so fucking much and I wish very very bad things upon them.
I almost decide not to answer- actually, I do decide not to answer. But the bitch insists and calls me another 5 fucking times.
My eye twitches slightly as I jump up from my bed, annoyed, and reach for my phone.
"What, the fuck do you want," I spit, voice raspy and more than fucking annoyed. Is there a stage past annoyed? If there is, I'm 10 more staged ahead of it.
"Oh- um, Az.. it's me, Elliott. Were you in the middle of something-"
My voice automatically softens a teeny tiny bit for some reason. "I was trying to sleep," I mutter, closing my phone eyes and debating just ending the call and resting my head again. "What do you want?"
