Anna & her Alphas

Two: More Brothers?

Anna's POV

"Anna, wake up," I hear someone. Mum?

"Noo, lemme sleep," I roll over and bury myself under my covers.

"Breakfast is ready, get up, we need to get going."

I'm not looking forward to today: it's the day of packing our stuff, we're moving into our new house tonight, in our new town!

I close my eyes and try to go back to sleep.

But soon, I hear the door open, and someone sits on my bed.

"C'mon baby girl, you need to get up," Louis says and tries to find me amongst my covers.

"Nooo," I mumble.

"I know this is hard, but please get up munchkin," Louis starts to peel off the cover.

"Leave me alone! I want to stay here," I pull the cover back.

I'm sad, depressed, and worried: we're leaving dad and his grave; am I the only one who cares? Well, I guess I was the person to see him die...

"I know girlie, but breakfast will make everything better. Do you want me to have to get Brett?" He replies.

"No, I'm getting up," I moan.

Brett will literally throw cold water on me if I don't get up!

Louis is usually nicer to me than Brett, yet Brett is the most possessive and protective of me.

"I'll carry you chicken," Louis chuckles.

See? The great thing about being five foot one, and the youngest, is that you can get your older brothers to carry you, sometimes without you even asking!

Louis picks me up bridal style, and takes me downstairs.

"What took so long? Anna, I'm really not liking your childish behaviour at the moment," mum says as Louis puts me down in my seat.

I roll my eyes, and lay my head on the table.

"Anna," Brett warns.

"Let's eat," Louis says, changing the subject and sitting next to me.

Brett is as bad as mum sometimes! Who does he think he is?! He's not my father!

Not to mention Mum is being very difficult at the moment too.

"Right, so guys I need you to tackle your rooms and pack everything up, be ready for six this evening," mum tells us.

After breakfast is finished, mum sends us straight up to pack.

I set about packing all my stuff. It takes me nearly the whole day to pack up all my clothes, desk books, stationary, fiction books and personal stuff like ornaments and lots of little photographs.

The photographs are particularly special; there's one of me on Brett's shoulders, when I was twelve and he was seventeen; one where Louis was holding me upside down and we were both laughing at the camera; another where daddy was holding me in his arms when I was six years old, and finally one with me and mum at the beach together when I was ten years old, just before dad died.

I sit on my bed and stare for ages at the photo in my hands of dad holding me when I was six.

A tear slips down my cheek; I miss him so much, his presence, his smell, and most of all, being held in his arms and having that sense of stability.

"Anna, you nearly done?" Brett comes into my room.

"Yeahh," I mumble, and wipe my eyes.

"Hey, what's up?" Brett's tone becomes soft and he walks over to me, crouching down in front of me and the bed.