Fated (Bloodhound x Eve (OC))

Yours

"I know you have one more for me – you have already been such a good girl."

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'I will be leaving shortly.'

Eve knew what Bloodhound's text meant for her.

She pushed her chair out from the table and put away the colored pencils she had borrowed from them. Each color had its proper place in the tin, and she slipped them back neatly the way she had found them. She squinted at her paper. It wasn't bad. Her sketch of the daisies on the table wasn't as realistic as she had hoped; the petals were uneven, the shading clumsy and scratchy, but it was a start. She needed something to pass the time in the cabin, unable to go on her usual adventures and excursions with Bloodhound. Even her phone could only entertain her so much before she found herself scrolling over the same posts again and again.

Eve got up from the table and made her way to the bedroom. It hadn't taken her long to get used to the crutches, and now she easily navigated through the house without putting any weight on her injured ankle. When she made it to the foot of the bed, she started to pull off her tank top and shorts and folded them neatly, setting them on the covers for later.

Her underwear went next, a mismatched but comfortable cotton set. She frowned as she rubbed the slightly-frayed waistband between her fingers. A shopping trip would have to be in order soon. Bloodhound didn't seem to mind either way; usually, her underwear was removed so quickly that it probably didn't matter, but she wanted some nice things to feel cute in. She tucked her panties under her bra on the pile and went back into the main room, nude except for the hot pink wrap around her ankle.

Eve glanced at the time. She still had a few minutes before they came home, but didn't want to get distracted and risk them coming in and finding her out of position. It was a little tricky to clamber down into the cushions and blankets in the recessed seating area, but she took her time to do so carefully. Her knees sank into the plush furs and cushions as she settled in. It was a relief they allowed her to kneel here on the thick, padded pelts rather than the hardwood floor.

Her lips pressed together into a line, remembering a few days prior when the pair returned home from the clinic. Bloodhound had laid out their expectations and she listened to their lecture without interruption. The disobedience that led to her injury had come at a great physical cost — not to mention the loss of income for the games she missed.

Her ankle was less swollen now, the pain subsided, but she was still too injured to seriously participate in any training for the Apex Games. To maintain her strength, they assigned her some upper body and resistance exercises that didn't require bearing any weight on her foot. It was better than nothing. Without the routine of her usual regimen of running and workouts, Bloodhound mainly focused on other types of lessons for Eve.

Before the injury, Bloodhound had very few rules for her. They would tolerate much of her misbehavior with only the occasional correction when she really acted out. She was no longer allowed that freedom. Now, every morning after she showered, they swapped out her necklace for the thick, leather collar. She was to wear it at all times and was not allowed to remove it herself without their explicit permission — unless there was a safety concern.

They had also gifted her a small, spiral-bound notebook and a bright set of multicolored pens. At the end of each day, she was supposed to write down at least three things that she had done that benefitted her mental or physical well-being. She'd been unable to contain her annoyance at that — it felt like such a silly exercise. However, she had complied so far, humoring their attempt to get her to prioritize her health. Bloodhound checked her work and expressed their satisfaction at her efforts, and even though she felt self-conscious writing these things down, their praise filled her with pride.