𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝘿𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐀 [ 𝐥𝐢𝐞-𝐥𝐚𝐡 ]

Layla woke up to the sounds of childish yelling and stomping. The sound was alien to her,for the only yelling she would hear was the yelling of grown adults, which was much scarier.

There was a crick in her neck, as she had fallen asleep in the foetal position. Cain's sheets spilled across her legs in waves of white fabric, enveloping her in the scent of him. The smell of  soap and a hint of sweat. She shoved them off of her, the smooth silk pooling onto the floorboards like dripping honey.

"Admit it, you shit!" A gleeful voice rang. "I fucking beat you there and you know it!"

She jumped at the loud thud in front of her door. It sounded as if someone had collapsed onto the floor. the floor shook slightly with the impact.

Layla crept off the bed, pulling on her pants, which had dried overnight. They were stiff and damp in some areas, but she ignored the unpleasant feeling of wet fabric sliding across her skin, choosing to focus on the loud ruckus outside of her room. Was she going to have to defend herself?

"I'm not admitting anything!" A second voice, this one lower and indignant. "Get the fuck off me!"

She could not help but be confused. Was no one going to reprimand them? She felt fear for the female who had raised her voice first. She had heard rumours of Hugo and his tight leash on his crew.

"Do you have to do this in front of my door, Astrid?" Someone drawled, their voice tinged with a hint of irritation.

Cain. She would recognise that voice anywhere.

"Why is your door locked?" Someone asked, tone painted with suspicion. "And why aren't you in it?"

Would Cain cover for her? Would he lie to them and hide her?

"Someone else is sleeping in there."

Apparently not.

"Shove over!" A boy yelled. "Can I see? I want to see!"

Layla swore as he knocked on the door and began unlocking it.

"Shut up, Nero." Cain hissed.

"Yeah, shut up." Astrid snickered.

"You decent, Layla?" He yelled through the door. "I'm coming in."

She jolted, and gathered up her satchel from the door. It was pathetically empty, containing a change of underwear, toiletries and money she had stashed away from Ivan. She didn't have many precious items, and she certainly did not want to wear and keep the clothes Ivan bought for her. This left her with nothing to her name except for a necklace. Layla didn't remember a time she she wasn't wearing it. It was the only thing she had that belonged to her mother. It was a simple gold chain that hugged close to the column of her neck.

Layla didn't know what to do, so she opted to stand awkwardly next to the bed, clutching her bag to her chest.

"Layla?" Cain repeated her name, softer this time and slightly muffled, as he was spoke through the thick wood of the door.

"Yeah, come in." She replied.

The doorknob turned and the door swung open. Layla stifled a smile at the sight beholden to her.

Cain stood at the front, his hand on the head of a little girl. She couldn't have been more than four, yet she had the same glare Layla wore on her face on a daily basis. Behind him was a boy and a girl fighting to get a view of her above Cain's shoulders. They were seemingly in their late teenage years, yet were behaving as if they were children.

"Hi!" The teenage girl said brightly, shoving past Cain and thrusting a hand towards Layla. "I'm Astrid."

Her wrist was littered with stretchy bracelets, the kind that pulled at your arm hair and smelt of melted rubber. There was not an inch of her ear that wasn't covered in silver piercings, they even spread onto her nose and lips. Layla liked the look of her, and it helped that she wasn't a man. She seemed friendly enough, so Layla decided to take a risk and extend an olive branch.