❝ EXCUSE ME, I HAVE TO GO KILL SOMEONE. ❞
❝ I REALLY HOPE SHE'S TALKING FIGURATIVELY. ❞
( BOOK TWO of FIGHT OR FLIGHT )
Scout Wiley was once in love with the abyss. It was her mistake for getting too comfortable. She knew she shouldn't have lie...
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5th of December Fifth Avenue Quantico, Virginia
"OH GOD, MY head is killing me."
The hungover moan sounded from the young and newly aged 14 year old girl as she laid helplessly in her bed. Her eyes shut but the world pounding her brain while she felt like she was spinning.
"Sleep well?"
An agitated tone of voice sounded above all the rest of the noise in Jude's head. After a short moment of groaning, she got up the courage to open her eyes, knowing damn well she was going to have her fuming mother standing over her. She could already feel her shadow.
"Mornin', Mama."
Jude sighed and tried to smile sweetly up at the older brunette who was standing at the side of her bed. Her arms were folded and a look that she couldn't quite decide on was staring back at her. Did it scream anger? Or perhaps happiness?
'Is she happy for my obvious pain?'
Jude thought grimly to herself, shutting her eyes and sighing once more in another groan of discomfort.
Her actions screamed out to Scout that her daughter was not going to be bouncing out of bed anytime soon. A part of her wanted to make the girl get up and work it off with some morning training as punishment. But that only made her wrench inside and feel sick to the core. Scout knew of that punishment and it only reminded her of one particular person that she longed to see.
"Ssshh." Scout soothed softly and very gently stroking her daughter's head as she sighed miserably holding her eyes closed.
"How are you feeling, Little Bird?"
She held her gentle, comforting tone, wanting to make sure that her daughter never faced the same repercussions that she had before. Scout had promised herself this several times before and thus, decided on taking another approach to this new experience: a hungover little girl.
"Like hell. I never want to drink again." Jude groaned slowly, opening her eyes and hearing her mother snort softly and holding a gentle smile down at her.
"That's what they all say." She leaned down and kissed her head lightly as she whispered, "But it never happens."
"I'm sorry I drank too much, Mom."
The teen offered, only hearing Scout chuckle softly so as to not anger her headache anymore.
"I can see yer sorry, Judie," Scout softly continued her gentle caressing to her daughter's cheek, "Do you remember much of what happened last night?"
