I know this is update is so late and I'm sorry because I was so horrible while leaving the last one shot with a cliffhanger. If you wanna read my work you just need to get over the fact that I'm lazy as hell. Also, I'm now mostly working on a book called Returned, it would be really cool if you would check it out. The prologue is very good in my opinion and I just got to edit the first two chapters because, to be honest, they're a little crappy. But they are published so you can go read them if you want anyway.
Here's the description for Returned:
You might think I betrayed you, you might think I deserve to die. But I will live, I will fight, and I will survive. My name is something that would be whispered in your ear at night to scare you. Or maybe an example of a person who you shouldn't become. But you shouldn't want to become me. I have experienced things that are your worst nightmares, those nightmares that leave you covered with freezing perspiration and that leave you screaming. Nightmares that engulf you with paranoia, nightmares that drive you insane, nightmares that make your pulse erratic. My name is Octaviah Renaira, and this is my story.
Right enough of this then, let's get on with the one-shot.
Wait, before you go, I haven't read anything to do with Lockwood and Co. for ages, so this probably won't be the best one-shot you have ever read, and yeah...well enjoy anyway.
~~~
"LUCY! LUCY! GEORGE HELP!"
My eyes flutter open, my breathing erratic as I look around. A sudden wave of nausea hits me as I attempt to stand up, so I sit back down, swallowing all the bile rising up my throat.
"Lockwood? George?" I say into the darkness, my eyes still adjusting.
"Crap, Lucy!" George comes rushing in, then I realize where I am, at 35 Portland Row.
"What happened with the case, and how did I get here?"
Grabbing the tea that George had just offered me, I begin sipping on the hot liquid, even though it slightly burns my tongue it warms me up.
"We sealed the source, don't worry, Lockwoods just talking to the owner of the house right now. Are you okay? Lockwood found you unconscious near the source, do you remember anything? There were no signs or ghost touch, or any contact with the ghost, and you didn't seem to be in a deep ghost lock and-"
"God's sake George, you're already giving me a headache," I muttered, raising a hand and slightly rubbing my forehead.
"And to answer your question, I really don't remember much, just the part where we split up. And I also have no idea what happened, because I just asked you that question. And you're supposed to be smart." I snort in my head at the last sentence as I lean back into the soft pillow.
George begins opening his mouth for an apparently "smart comeback" but gets interrupted by a breathless Lockwood rushing inside and slightly slamming the door. I wince at the sudden sound, my brow raised. Whats he rushing for?
"Is Luce..." He turns around after hanging his coat and his eyes lock onto mine, "awake.."
"Lockwood, I'm fine."
"Oh crap, I forgot I need to go to the library, I'll be back in like two hours," George murmurs staring at his wristwatch, that I never noticed he had.
"And also, make sure Lucy's isn't too cold, she just woke up," He says, standing up and grabbing his jacket from the hanger, and walking out, though this time, he doesn't slam the door.
My eyes wander to Lockwood who was still standing there, looking at the door, his dark hair falling messily into his eyes. I think I was staring for a little too long as our eyes meet.
Sitting down on the chair he puts his head in his hands, letting out a frustrated noise. Lockwood never usually loses his composure which was kind of weird for him to do it now.
"Lockwood..?"
"I thought you were dead, Lucy, you weren't breathing." He says, exhaling loudly.
"Lockwood I'm fine, I'm still alive, that's all that matters," I say, hoping that that would make him relax at least a little
"Right, yes. Do you want to, go for a walk? I mean you must be quite-"
"Yeah let's go," I say, suddenly feeling the urge to touch the necklace that he gave me.
"Are we going to..?"
"No, I have a different place," He laughs nervously, standing up and handing me my coat.
We walk out of the door and I follow Lockwood, wondering behind, fiddling with the beautiful necklace.
We walk through some trees and enter something that looks like an abandoned playground. It didn't look creepy, nothing was broken but slightly over-grown with plants.
"I used to play here a lot when I was a kid, I'd come here with my Mum when she was around and free. Or with my dad to play some different sports." He says, sitting down on a wooden bench, and I join him.
"I miss them.." Pulling my hand out of my pocket, I intertwine our fingers, his hand feeling cold in mine. His hand also felt significantly larger than mine, his fingers curling tightly.
"They would be proud, I'm sure,"
Leaning closer, I hug him, not sure what else to say.
"Luce, I love you," He moves away, his slender fingers brushing away my short hair.
My heart stopped in my chest, my breathing rougher and pulse erratic.
"I understand if you don't return the feelings but, I just can't keep it inside any longer-"
Leaning forward I connect our lips, moving slowly they fit together perfectly, after a moment I pull away.
"Would I do that if I didn't? I love you, Anthony,"
With that our lips connect once again, but this time so much more passionate. Moving around me, he pushes me down on the bench, his hands now slightly wandering. His tongue traces my bottom lip for permission and I gladly grant him it.
At that moment, I knew I would never be able to love anyone the way I loved him.
So what did you think? I really don't mind constructive criticism, so go tell me what could be improved. I admit the one-shot isn't the best at all, but I will write a better one once I re-read Lockwood and Co.
I think there are two types of people on wattpad:
1.) The person who has like 7 books in their Library, some finished, and the others not started.
2.) The person who has like 60 books in their Library, most forgotten completely, and others halfway done.
Which one are you? Or are you something different?
Not number 2...promise
