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@aryafitzdeviants-blog
she’s the girl with a fairytale face but her mouth screams like a wolf’s
words of the consultant, minjeong son (via paroi)
his little gasp
“Since being quite young, I’ve had a very strong sense of independence and survival. As a child, I was on my own two feet emotionally.” −Lena Headey
11:11 i wish i was a dog
Not Alone ➝ Arya & Sloane
It had only been the second day of her stay in the graces of Kaitleen, or Kai as she said she liked to go by. It was a wonderful apartment, just as to be expected, and was quickly introduced to the two other tenants and the adorable, exotic cat ludicrously named Crap Bag that Sloane immediately took to. The visiting had been short, the evening coming to a quick wrap and she was guided to her bedroom that she would be living in. It was wonderful, better than any room she had ever had in her life.
The next day, the apartment was empty. The others obviously had jobs and Sloane was still getting into the ropes of hers, so it was her day off after training. With… Crap Bag— Sloane giggled at the cat— following her from her room into the living room, she awkwardly sat herself down to enjoy some TV, another luxury she had had little of. But it only lasted a handful of minutes before there was a knock at the door. Unsure of herself, Sloane stood up and walked over, wondering if it was her place to take guests.
As soon as she opened the door, a strange brunette met her own timid smile and brushed past her. She must come here often, Sloane mused, but she was at a lost for words on what to say. Or, so she thought until the girl whirled around and stole her breath as well. The smile dropped. Panic bubbled up in her chest. Heat colored her neck. “W-what?” she gasped out, very inarticulately of herself.
Arya had a habit of making herself at home in the company of strangers. A habit that some might even consider a bit rude, but her mind was a one way street she always seemed to be speeding down. Fitz never had time to think better of her actions, at least, not until she’d already followed through with them. So once she’d set the tin of brownies on the kitchen counter and turned to face the blonde with a bottle of wine in her hand, her features fell at the sight that awaited her.
Gold hair falling in ringlets, Arya was taken back by the obviously very visceral fear filling the woman. Oh, what had she said now? Arya wondered, replaying her words in the forefront of her mind, and then she realized. The revelation didn’t come because of the previous moments replaying in her head, no, it came because the woman’s features were familiar. Kindred to her own when she’d been pulled into the dusty, dark Israeli alley way by a face she’d come to find far too kind and far too fleeting.
“Oh, please. I’m - I’m sorry.” Arya began, reaching a hand out to the girl in a manner that would have been a bit more appropriate in trying to sooth a savage beast. And the woman was no beast, no. She was lost, alone, and it struck something deep in her core.
“Please, it’s alright. I’m Arya.” She said, hand moving to her chest as she offered up a small smile. “There’s no need to be afraid, I promise. I’m like you, you see, half wolf half human.” She explained calmly, looking away to close her eyes for just a moment, gripping the wolf and pulling it to the surface in order for eyes to glow yellow and show the woman. “See.” Fitz began, flashing her new-found golden orbs to the girl before shaking them off, amber returning to their natural pools of blue.
and I would walk 500 dogs and I would walk 500 more