_highest ranking in fanfic #892 LMAO_
Ember Les Madaton is a woman seemingly hell bent on walking a path of self destruction. She's got herself into some double XL trouble that she hopes to hide from in the world's most chaotic city: Gotham.But...
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Inside the asylum I have a few extra minutes to spare so I decided to stop in the break room and fill up on more caffeine and Wash away the chalky taste of the Adderall I chewed while taking the chance to look over Dr. Wyatt roster. This place was like a hotel for those with sick scars in their mind, the list was short but sessions for each patient up to an hour long. Unfortunately Jay is all the way way down at the very bottom so I've got at least five hours to bare until then.
"Now what's a gorgeous specimen like yourself doing here among the monsters?"A voice emerged from reality making my blood boil, He was referring to My Puddin to something he is not and the one thing he is not is a Monster. No one has the right to call him that except for me because I actually know him and love him as my monster not a monster.
"Don't call him that."I growl glaring at the idiot who uttered that statement.
Classic Fnck Boy. Too pretty for his own good and every word that comes out his mouth is absolute garbage.
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He glanced me over with a smirk." Him? "He echoes me, bring my attention to my own stupid mistake.
"I meant them. "I recover quickly, waving the thick pile of documents in his face. "The people here are our patients not monsters."
"You see it's little sweet girls like you who provide a bed for them to hide under. "He sneers at me like I'm stupid and I just want to punch him just for touching me as he pinches my chin. "They want you to feel bad for them baby doll. "
I feel myself shift in my heels as he used that pet name and sends my blood pressure up. I hated that name until Jay started using it and he's the only person I let call me that, to hear on this fool is an insult i can't tolerate even with my Puddins freedom. Just when I'm about to break his nose with my clip board a quiet voice of a Brooklyn woman. Boy is that a oxymoron.
"I actually agree with her, Damon. "
Here we go. The man obviously named Damon rolls his eyes, pushing his limp brown hair off his forehead and sighs. I turn to regard the latest character to this dialogue who is apparently on my side, she belonged there because she's beautiful as hell. With a perfectly proportioned face she gazed at me with naive blue eyes behind her horn rimmed specs and a small smile from lips that seemed to be red by design just like her fair skin. She seemed so small like she could break from the wrong kind of handling of poorly put words, soft spoken yet determined to weigh in on this conversation. I could tell the second I looked at her that she'd cling to me like a puppy and I'd be more than happy to take her in, I couldn't put my finger on it but something about her reached out to me and brought about unfamiliar feelings of compassion. She kinda reminds me of myself before I was hurt, before I changed back when I was quiet and untouched by darkness.
