iii.

496 13 2
                                    

bullet wounds and broody wolves ________________

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

bullet wounds and broody wolves
________________

Anatalia rolled out of bed painfully, the aching in her arm prominent as a sinking feeling entered her stomach.

Last night her right arm began to hurt and her head pounded.

She felt sick.

She hasn't been sick since she was 6.

She didn't like it.

Reluctantly, the brunette dressed herself and slipped on her sandals before she grabbed her keys and phone, heading downstairs to see her aunt actually home.

The nurse's hair was up in a pony, her tight curls trying to break free of their confinement while she sported her blue scrubs and a bright smile on her face.

"Morning honey!"

The brunette smiled at her cheerfulness while grabbing an apple, "Mornin aunt Mel. Off to work?"

The McCall woman nodded her head tiredly, but her smile remained. "Yup, and by the looks of it you are too. How is it, by the way?"

Ana's eyes flitted to the clock on the wall before moving down towards her aunt, a small shrug as an answer making her wince.

"Not bad.. Finstock isn't that bad of a boss- he's spacey and loud, but nothing I can't handle. I had to put up with him for years before."

Melissa's laugh rang through the air as she watched her niece chuckle, "I just want to thank you for the time you spent with Scott this summer, helping him practice. It payed off."

The brunette smiled softly at the innocence her aunt held, almost envious.

"It's no problem, God knows he needed it."

Melissa laughed again before catching the time.

"Oh my god!" She rushed, grabbing her bag and keys before moving toward the foyer "I've gotta run, I'll see you later! Have a good day! Love you!" She yelled before disappearing, leaving the older McCall alone in the house to eat before she had to be at the school.

Anatalia took a detour before work, finding herself walking up a familiar gravel path with a cigarette between her lips.

Her eyes settled on the remains of the house and sighed, her feet crunching leaves underneath.

She didn't hear or smell Derek, but she smelt blood- very familiar blood.

Fervent | D. Hale [ON HOLD]Where stories live. Discover now