She's an innocent girl who lived with her alcoholic abusive father. Her life was barley manageable, especially when she was separated from her biological family at such a young age.
When her father mysteriously dies from a car crash, she's taken to...
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AZALEA'S POV:
I TOSS and turn in bed, annoyed. It's 3AM, and for once, I feel a bit tired, drained out from this stupid annoying case of trying to find out what my brothers do for money. And for once, I actually wish I could just fall asleep. My shoulders slump in defeat, and I roll my eyes, annoyed. A long sigh escapes my mouth. I sit up, leaning against the headboard, surrounded by pure darkness.
My eyes close shut, and I tilt my head upwards, against the soft fabric material. Silence fills up the room; thoughts fill up my head. It's been a while since I've gotten a nightmare or thought about my old life in general. I'd say that's making good progress, and I've also been talking to V (Vincent) for a bit now. We're closer than we ever had been before, so now I'd like nothing to get in the way of this friendship this time, especially now there's no one stopping me.
But with nothing to do, I decide to play a little game I used to play back in London.
I can hear my steady breathing. I can hear my beating heart. I can hear my thoughts. I can hear whirling wind. I can hear soft raindrops. I can see darkness. I can see nothing else. I can feel the warm embrace of the blanket. I can feel a calming breeze caress my face. I can feel my cold palms gripping onto my arms. I can feel my arms wrapped around myself. I can smell the lingering, sweet perfume I'd previously sprayed. I can smell the fresh, floral, vanilla shampoo I'd scrubbed my hair with before. I can taste nothing.
Now, I can hear distant footsteps, ones that had not been there before. I can feel myself tense, my guard raise. I can hear my pounding heart, uneven breaths, my uncalled for nervousness.
If I were to hide under my blanket, would that be enough to make the person go? Or if I pretended to be asleep? Maybe I could try jumping off my balcony again, hoping no one walks in on me this time. The closet seems very homely too―
A loud, slightly rough knock disrupts the peaceful silence in my room, and more importantly, my calculated and not at all ridiculous thoughts. I squeeze my eyes shut and cross my fingers, silently praying it's just a worker, even though I know damn well, none of the workers knock that loudly and are way more gentle. Also, their footsteps aren't that heavy.
A frown settles on my face as I slowly lower myself back down onto my mattress, crossing my arms and looking up at the celling. Unless it's Aidan or Elliott, I know I'll receive a lecture as to how I shouldn't be awake because it's bad for my health and some other random crap no one in the world gives a single shit about.
All of them, except Elijah, are hypocrites, them and I know damn well they wake up at 3am to 'start their morning' then would give the very common excuses of 'I have work to do,' or, 'I don't do it everyday,' then, they'd proceed to say that with a sheepish smile on their face or a very stern expression. Or, if you're Giovanni, then none of the above and just a simple, emotionless face.
Trust me, I'd know.
Another loud knock interrupts my very brief, true analyzation of them. I quietly groan and put the blanket over my head, preparing to be lectured at the fine time of 3am.
