Ella and Anson kill for a living.
Literally.
They make their living by murdering anyone-who deserves to die-. They collect data and easily come close to the person, and then, when time is right, they go in to attack. Murdering the ones who deserve...
Nepenthe | nəˈpenTHēz | noun | something that can make you forget grief or suffering.|
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Mybodyached. I tried to move around, but the blankets restrained my body. "Anson," I groaned.
He didn't make a noise. I slowly looked up to see that he was still asleep."Anson!" I muttered, pushing away from his tight grasp.
He moved in his sleep as I shoved his heavy arm off of my chest. Ansons heavy breaths tickled my ear, causing me to finally sit up, I slowly got up, and out of my bed, heading straight to the bathroom to at least look a bit decent for the day.
William was probably in his study with Leanne, looking for the next victim. Anson wouldn't be waking up till one of us yanked him out of here. I looked at myself in the mirror for a moment, getting a good look at my features.
My head hung a bit low, from how tired I felt. My eyes were slightly puffy, the purple from the bags underneath my lower lid blocked out the accent of my dark eye color. My skin was sickly pale, like it always was, making my extremely messy dirty blonde hair framed around my petite body.
I flipped on the sink, watching the water flow out of the faucet, pouring over my hands. I threw the cold water onto my face, trying to wake up a bit more before I quickly brushed my teeth and changed into a random t shirt and jeans.
Leanne's voice sang softly, I could hear Spark's laughter as I drew closer downstairs.
"Brand, letsss danncceee!!" Leanne laughed, I peered into the kitchen after walking down the steps to see the two dancing. Brand stood on the table, holding Le's hands tightly as he laughed.
"Momma!" Brand yelled, he smiled and jumped up, and into Le's arms after a moment of dancing. He simply swayed his small arms up and down and side-to-side.
"Hi Sparks," I smiled tiredly.
"Morninngggg!" He reached over for me. I pulled my son into my arms, holding him on my hip.
"How are you?" I go to kiss his cheek, but he pulled away from excitement.
"Good! Auntie Le dance! Uncle William in his book. He said Dad got him it! Like how Dad got me cookies!" Brandy exclaimed, he smiled and looked at me.
"Oh really? That sounds nice," I smiled and situated him on my hip a bit.
"Did you get anything from Dad?" He asked, dying to know what I had gotten.
