[Werewolf/Romance] Twenty Two year old Darcie Brookes is not looking forward to adulthood. Indeed, with nowhere to live, graduation around the corner and an English degree she doesn't know what to do with, the idea isn't exactly appealing. She int...
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HAPPY SNOW DAY KIDZ!
18/03/2018 We are currently snowed in. No work for me today! And nothing to do but eat and write. Pure bliss. As always, this is very rough and very unedited, but I was too excited to not post this chapter (I know it's been a long time.) Hope you enjoy. Events wise - this chapter is pretty uneventful, but it's necessary. After this, Darcie will return to Oxford, and the fun shall begin. ;)
P.S I've now changed the actor playing Bash (Picture Above). Chad White is lovely and very handsome, but he was always a little too 'pretty' for the part.
Anyways, without further ado:
(c) Copyright SJCLewis2018
Darcie woke early the next morning to the sound of animated barking. She lay in a state of groggy confusion for a moment or two, rubbing her eyes and yawning, before the events of the past 24 hours tauntingly accosted her, and the reality of her situation sunk in again.
Well Shit.
With a tortured groan, she thumped the feather comforter with a white knuckled fist.
I'm still here.
Molly had marched her back into the house, up the stairs, and into the bathroom. She had stood by while Darcie had washed the blood and dirt off her face and hands, and then pressed a pair of pyjamas on her, ordering her to change. Darcie had obliged, feeling far too hopeless and defeated to resist her demands. When Molly had told her that the pyjamas were Artia's, she'd been too preoccupied with jealousy to ask precisely why Artia kept clothes at Bash's house. She had eaten the sandwich she was offered without protest or enthusiasm, and then meekly allowed herself to be led back to bed. Molly was a shrewd, no-nonsense woman, and Darcie felt that to protest would have had little effect.
"Sebastian's a good boy." Molly had told her, sparing Darcie a look of compassion as she turned to leave. "But he can be a little too soft for his own good. And I suppose he's isn't used to having a girl around the house again. "
Darcie had only clenched her hands together beneath the duvet and returned Molly's expectant look with a blank stare. Sometime between Artia's pyjamas and the sandwich, she had resigned herself to the fact that she really was quite out of options. Throwing another tantrum would be pointless. She was well and truly caged in, and she was all cried out.
Fuck.
The barking was getting louder.
Darcie screwed up her face and turned over again, cursing. Alongside the dog, she could now hear the unmistakable crunch of footsteps on gravel and the sounds of muffled conversation. Darcie felt her stomach lurch as she recognised Bash's already too-familiar drawl . The other voice - definitely a man's - she didn't recognise.
