The marble flooring chills Ann Marie's bare feet as she scuffles past the archway of the large elegant staircases and into the warmth of the open living room. Maggie and Steavie sit on the floor together at the feet of the couch, Steavie mulling over a large stack of paperwork and Maggie resting her head back on the couch.
Ann Marie sways as she walks over to them, the comfort of the still couch calling her. As she nears, Steavie looks up over the rims of her glasses at her as her expression scruches in reaction. The heavy stench of stale marajuana, aged vomit and general poor hygiene wafting to them violently as Ann Marie flops onto the plush cushioning across from them.
Ann Marie's thinning hair proudly displays her bleaching attempts as spikes of crunchy locks stiffly stand with ease from her scalp. Steavie's blue eyes study the lump of a woman laying face down on her couch. Her old shorts Steavie had lent her when they first met now have a hole in the inner thigh and suspicious white staining decorate the material. Steavie sighs, returning to her paperwork in an attempt to ignore the thought of the filth from Ann Marie's customers coating her luxurious couch.
"How's it looking so far?" Maggie mumbles, bringing her head forward and rubbing her tired eyes. Steavie blows a strand of her jet black hair off of the paper in front of her
"Fantastic." She replies flatly.
"The only thing I have backing us is the abysmal interrogation of the guy. As soon as they got him in, they just berated him constantly to intimidate him, it was just blatantly unprofessional." Steavie says with a frown, limply holding a sheet of paper as she glares at Ann Marie on her couch.
"Pretty sure you shouldn't be telling anyone stuff like that. Isn't there some kind of confidentiality agreement? Like the Doctor patient thing?" Maggie asks, a small smile creeping onto her lips as she talks. Steavie rolls her eyes and sifts through one of the piles of paperwork littering the large coffee table
"He killed his mom without any motive, Maggie. Forgive me if I hold no sentiment for the guy." Ann Marie's body lazily moves her head to the side to look at them, a string of snot following her nose and staining the couch as her head shifts. Steavie holds back a gag as Ann Marie speaks.
"That's pretty Ironic." Ann Marie croaks, her dry lips visibly cracking as she speaks. Maggie cringes as her eyes dart between the two, Ann Marie's glazed over eyes unable to see the glare from Steavie. Maggie clears her throat and rises from her place on the ground
"I'll go grab you some water, you seem a bit funny." She says, making her way out of the room briskly.
Steavie watches as Ann heaves her body up and struggles to get her limbs into a sitting position on the couch without having her body fall to one side, unable to comprehend the requirements needed to hold herself up. A wet trail on the couch's material follows Ann Marie's body, dripping to form a wet line on her clothing before transforming back into the disgusting stream coming from her nose. Steavie quickly looks away, feeling her body attempt to curl as a gag approaches suddenly.
"Got any more appointments today?" Steavie asks after a moment to gather herself. Ann Marie mumbles incoherently
"Use your words." Steavie says coldly, feeling impatient by her mere presence on her furniture.
"Time?" Ann asks bluntly as she wipes her nose on the back of her hand, the string of snot transferring itself there before she mindlessly wipes it on the couch. Steavie points to the large clock above her fireplace and Ann fights to keep her eyes open as she looks over to it, her dazed expression turning to a frown.
YOU ARE READING
Guts, Rearranged {INCOMPLETE}
RomanceWould you say that everyone deserves some kind of redemption? Would you say some deserve a gruesome end? Would you say some deserve the warm hands of a secretly murderous lover? As Maggie attends her first day as a butchery assistant, she'd been pla...
