Imagine reuniting with your brother twenty years after he ran away from home.
A/n: So, I took some liberties with this request, because as I understand it, you wrote your own story with an OC called Enola, but I don't write personalized imagines like that so this is what I came up with. I hope you enjoy :)
Word Count: 1077
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What drew you to this strange city?
Was it the odd atmosphere? The fact that all sorts of outcasts come here to escape their past lives?
Or was it something else?
You don't really know why you came here of all places but you don't question it any further as you haul boxes into your new apartment.
Santa Carla is your home now.
That's all that matters.
Setting the box down, you look around the small space and smile. Ever since your mom passed, you didn't have a reason to smile it off moving. And now you've finally done it.
You unpack for most of the night before passing out around four or five in the morning. Good thing you don't have work or anything important to do tomorrow.
By the time you reawaken, it's afternoon. You finish unpacking and decide to go exploring your new neighbourhood.
Of course, you have to go to the boardwalk, but you decide to go there last, deeming it more appropriate to go at night to get a better grasp of the nightlife here in Santa Carla.
As you walk, your eye catches sight of a bunch of missing posters. They remind you of your brother who ran away from home when you were only five years old.
You can't blame him for running, especially after you discovered the whole truth behind his sudden departure.
It turns out, your father was abusive and one day, Dwayne finally had enough of him. So, he dealt with your father before running off to escape the police.
Your mom never really talked much about the incident and you get it. You don't like talking about it either.
Sometimes, if you try real hard, you can picture what he looked like and remember the times you spent with him.
He was a great older brother and you wish he could have stuck around.
Turning away from the posters, you make your way towards the beach to watch the sunset. Your feet dig into the soft sand as you walk in the direction of the boardwalk.
Faintly, you can hear a concert going on - some form of rock band playing to their hearts content.
The music enthralls you, drawing you towards the crowd as a smile grows on your lips. This is what you've always wanted - a carefree existence without worries or priorities.
You sway to the music for awhile before wandering away. Your feet lead you to the shops and you glance over all of the merchandise as you hum along to the tune playing in the background.
A shadow flickers in the corner of your eye, alerting you to the close proximately of two strangers. Grins adorn their gorgeous faces, their eyes alight with mischief.
Disconcerted, you walk a bit faster, irked when they keep pace with you before cutting in front of you.
You stop and cross your arms, "Can I help you?"
"Nope," the one with a mesh shirt and long blond hair says, popping the 'p'.
The one beside him smirks - truly a dazzling sight to behold - as he looks you over. His distinguishing feature is his wildly curly blond hair.
"Okay," you push between them, continuing on your path.
"Hey, wait up!"
Of course they follow you.
You keep walking even as they try to strike a conversation.
"Where you going?"
You don't answer.
You're not trying to be rude, you just don't talk much and you also believe in the saying 'stranger danger'.
"What's your name?"
Sighing, you stop in your tracks and face the persistent boys, "Look, I don't know you-"
"That's what we're trying to fix," Mesh Shirt exclaims with a grin.
Dang, he's got a point. If I never talk to strangers, then I'll never make friends.
You scowl at the thought.
They realize you've given up your escape, restarting their questions.
"So, what's your name?"
"Y/n."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Paul and that's Marko."
You nod your head.
"You new here?"
Another nod.
"You sure don't talk much do ya?"
Another scowl.
"Hey, it's alright. One of our friends doesn't talk much either."
"Why bother when all you two do is yap," you comment with a small smile.
They gasp in mock offense, turning to each other.
"Marko, can you believe how she wounds us?"
"She's not wrong though," a new voice says, revealing a platinum blond with a mullet. "You two never shut up."
He tosses a finished cig on the ground as Paul laughs and shakes his head.
"Ouch."
You cross your arms again, uncertain now that they outnumber you three to one. What have you gotten yourself into?
"David, this is Y/n," Paul introduces, seemingly picking up on your discomfort. "She's new to town."
"Hi," is his flippant response.
The fact that he's not really paying much attention to you is oddly comforting. Marko strikes another conversation, with you giving short answers to his varying questions.
With night thickening around you, you've actually started to enjoy yourself around these strange men. So much so that you've failed to realize that they've drawn you away from the crowds.
They lead you off to the beach until no one is in sight.
"Should we wait for Dwayne?" Marko asks his brothers through their mind link.
"No, he should be here any minute."
Sensing danger, you turn to face the men, now understanding your dire mistake.
As they approach, snickering at your panicked expression, someone new joins them.
Your eyes meet his and you feel like you know him from somewhere. Dark eyes, long dark hair, a jacket with a leopard on its sleeve - you wrack your brain trying to remember where you know him from.
Meanwhile, he knows who you are instantly. Call it brotherly instinct or vampiric senses or whatever you want, but he knows you are his sister.
The sister he thought he'd never see again.
Marko lunges for you as you shy away, but a rough hand on his shoulder stops him.
"Wait, don't hurt her!"
The others stare at him in confusion.
"She's my sister."
At that bombshell, everyone seems stunned into silence.
"Dwayne?" You finally say, tears welling up in your eyes, "Is it really you?"
He nods, unusually emotional as his throat closes, drowning any words he would have said. How many times has he thought about this moment? Dreamed of seeing his family again?
How many times have you thought of this? Wished for this?
You hesitate for a second before dashing into his arms, embracing him with tears falling down your cheeks.
David shares a look with the others at this unexpected turn of events.
Clearly they won't be eating Y/n anytime soon.