A/N: Before you even begin, this will contain some spoilers from the first instalment (It doesn't end with blood) and if you wish to wait, then fine:) But I thought I'd post it as a 'thank you' to all the people that read the first one. I'm so happy you've given this and my other stories a fair go and... well, thank you again:)
I didn't realise that writing Adam's speech impediment would be confusing for some English and non-English speakers alike. I never thought about that before and I apologise. This will have asterisks and then proper English that he can't pronounce properly.
The zesty orange container in front of the man mocked him with the brightness. the uneven lettering and childish pictures of an orange wearing sunglasses rolled his empty stomach. His hand twitching, the ticking of the clock above his head, they were a constant reminder of how much shorter the Suits took to consider his forms compared the the three possible applicants.
Job hunting had never meant to be easy Adam got to be the cursed one with little to no luck. Soon-to-be declined again, for a younger and fresher face. He saw many of them in the waiting room just beyond the glass divider. It separated the hall and the front of the establishment he'd been confident enough to send in a resume for. He'd had his interview not a day before but now it was call back. Adam lost before he got the confirmation.
The doors opened, rich mahogany glimpsing off the fluorescent lights overhead. Two men, one balding and a short stub of a man and the other tall and too thin for his expensive Suit, walked out and stopped not a foot from the nervous Adam. Their professional smiles and fake sincerity was as empty as the apologies they were going to make.
"Mr Hartley, we are sorry to say that we will not be accepting you as one of our interns. Due to some necessary cutbacks and... Extra requirements in order for you to be comfortable under our employ, we find we cannot provide that," Tall and gawky stated, the lie in every heartbeat that Adam's ear picked up. "We are sorry for the need for you to come all the way here and be told you will not have a place here."
Disappointment settled quickly but after many job offers being nothing but duds, Adam should be used to it. He told himself he should be. Told himself it would work out eventually. Standing up, he raised his right hand, a chromatic white in contrast to his creamy complexion, and forced a smile. "Thankshu, sh-irs *thank you, sirs*," He returned with difficulty. His tongue still ached, feeling like it didn't belong there.
"Good luck on your next endeavour, sir," The chubby bald man drawled without bothering to fake a smile. Adam was older than them but his own quirks kept him ageing slower than the mortals that denied him the position.
Adam bowed one last time before he left the place altogether. he had nothing to be happy about today, not with the rain pelting down from the Heavens and people under their bags or the rare umbrella. Lost in the big city and unsure how he would keep up with his rent now, Adam ducked his head and didn't care that the water was soaking his only good suit. There were people who were hiring in cafes and the like, but with his impairments in the hand and speech department, this small man wasn't likely to find anything he was useful for. Verun would say that was rubbish, that Adam could do anything he set his mind to, would even offer to help with rent. The problem was Adams' pride and his feelings that he'd relied off the kind father and soon-to-be husband of Lycan mate. It was the only happiness in Adams' life at the moment.
'Another day, another disappointment,' Adam thought and knew it wasn't his words. They were his first alphas'. He smiled fondly at the memories of warm puppy huddles and the brother that had proved he would do anything for Adam.
YOU ARE READING
Hands On The WheelRomance
****Sequel to It Doesn't End With Blood**** Adam has always led a life in the shadows of someone else. If not in that shadow, then in his own self-doubt. The timid male isn't the hero, nor is he the type to jump into battle. He is the runt, the vict...