𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚 → kit + ty

| 01 |

KIT ROOK WAS A LOT OF THINGS. A criminal, yes. A crook, a playboy, a downright scoundrel, (as the old woman living across the street from him used to stay)- he was those things and more. He'd been called things that weren't even in his vocabulary, and though he didn't know what they meant, he probably deserved it. But one thing that Kit wasn't, was a liar.

His father was a liar. The biggest one there'd ever been. Heck, Johnny Rook lied for a living. He traded secrets and false remedies- it was his way of life.

But Kit had never wanted to be like his father. Johnny Rook was a terrible person, and Kit had always thought that once he turned eighteen and moved out he'd be forever done with the man.

But that time came sooner than expected when a call came amidst the chaos of a screeching party, saying that there'd been a murder, saying that his father was dead.

Kit wasn't even shocked. His father had made a lot of enemies in his time, and it was honestly just a matter of time until someone he'd pissed off just a tad too much came after him.

Kit later came to realize that he barely even cared that his father was dead. If anything, it was only an inconvenience- now child services were up his ass, ready to shove him into any willing arms.

And that's how Kit found himself there, sitting in a horribly scratchy chair in a rather boring waiting room, fumbling around with his pocket knife to kill time as he waited for the news of where he'd be going next.

Kit was fairly sure it would be to an orphanage, or some foster home- there was surely no one else ready to take him in. He had no family and no friends, and he'd already accepted his fate of having to suffer in a loud, most likely disgusting group home.

That would certainly suck, but it would only be until April, when he turned eighteen. Only five more months, Kit tried to tell himself. He could make it.

Glaring defiantly at the old woman behind the front desk, Kit reached into a back pocket to pull out his lighter. It was a dark grey, the engraving C.R. standing boldly on the side in worn letters. It was one of the only gifts he had ever received from his dad. 

It flickered to life as he lit a cigarette, and the haggard woman just sighed and turned away, obviously too exhausted to reprimand any rebellious teenagers.

The door beside him opened, and Kit glanced up to see a tall woman standing in the doorway, looking down at him judgementally. Her hair, a strange white color despite her young age, contrasted with the dark skin of her face. He raised a defiant eyebrow, and she returned the look with a bored glare.

"Christopher Rook?" She asked, something akin to sarcasm in her tone.

Kit just nodded, pulling the cigarette from between his lips to let out a long puff of smoke.

"Come in," She jerked her head toward the door, and glared at him over her shoulder. "And put that damn thing out."

With a small smirk, Kit got rid of the light and followed her into the office.

Strolling in, he unceremoniously flopped himself onto one of the large blue chairs in front of her desk, which were surprisingly much comfier than the ones in the waiting room. She cleared her throat, making him look up at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I am Catarina Loss." She said, pulling a stack of papers from the desk to trifle through. "And I don't usually work in this department, so I have no problem yelling at you."

"Just get on with it." Kit rolled his eyes. "Which hell hole are they sending me to?"

"It's not a 'hell hole.'" She looked up, glancing at him with large blue eyes. "Your actually very lucky with the place we've found." She stared at him then, and Kit felt as if his very soul was being scrutinized. He glared back defiantly, until her gaze seemed to soften. His facade cracked the tiniest bit, and she pulled back, seemingly satisfied.

"A couple, very good friends of mine actually, have agreed to take you in." She said. "They were very close friends of your cousin before he died."

"Cousin?" Kit asked, eyebrows narrowed.

"Yes," She tilted her head. "Will Herondale. Your father never told you about him?"

Kit shook his head sharply.

"But that's still understandable." She shrugged her hair behind one shoulder. "He came from your mother's side, and even then it was a second or third cousin like, four times removed. Maybe not even a cousin, more like an uncle. Too complicated to be made out." She shrugged. "But anyway, they have agreed to take you in. They live in Los Angeles, so we've already booked you a flight."

"What if they change their mind about wanting me?" Kit asked, voice blank. Surely once these people got to know him, to know how much of a troublemaker he was, they wouldn't want him anymore. He'd be sent right back here.

Catarina tilted her head. "And why would they do that?"He could tell that she was trying to get a reaction from him, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. When he stayed silent, she shrugged. "They wish to adopt you, maybe after they've gotten to know you a bit." She gave him a look. "And they won't change their mind." There was a finality to her voice that surprised him.

"You'll be taken back to your house to collect your things, and your flight's tomorrow." She stacked up the papers. "Any questions?"

Kit stayed silent, glaring at the wall in front of him.

"Alright," she stood up. "C'mon then."

"To my death," Kit muttered as he stood up and followed her out of the room.

how'd yall like the first chapter? ;)

fyi chapters are usually 1200-1500 words, this ones a little short tho