Thread: Morals Or Sin [Hahvy x Scotty Rage]

At first, the silence of the house hadn't bothered her. She had kept herself occupied by making sure the house was secured and no intruders would be around the property. It had been drilled into her head and so now it was a reflex to be positive she was safe. Being alert and observant had always been her strong suits anyways. But then the silence had started to drive her crazy, like a tiger locked into a large cage. It may have had the space she could handle, but it was still a cage that was slowly making her twitchy. Tossing her luggage into her room, she thought about unpacking now, but knew she wasn't going to sleep and would wait until later. There were other things to deal with at the moment. Stepping outside the ranch house, Ashlin combed her fingers through her black hair, her green-blue eyes searching the green landscape for signs of life. The whinny of a horse caught her attention and she walked around the back to the barn. She had almost forgotten about Sam's two horses and as she approached, they stomped their feet in impatience. They sniffed her hands and hair, trying to nibble on the strands and she smiled. They still remembered her, even after all these years. Hold on, guys. I'll get you fed. She located their food and went about depositing it into their stalls, knowing that Sam had only left this morning so they didn't need their stalls mucked out due to the fresh sawdust on the floor. She wouldn't have to clean them for a few days and that made her grateful to her friend. When she and Sam had talked, he had said that Tomas, his partner, and he would be out of town. He had taken Tomas with him on his business trip that would also be a vacation so he'd be gone for roughly two weeks or so. He said he could always come back sooner if she needed help, but she had told him to stay away. He worked too hard, she thought. As the horses munched happily on their food, she watered them before she left them alone for the rest of the day. She'd let them out after dinner for a midnight spree around the field. The open space was freeing and yet suffocating. She didn't really know how to deal with it all. Noting that it was after three and dinner was at five, and the drive to her father's was about an hour, she sighed and slipped back into the house to change her clothes and take a shower. The shower was the best thing she could have asked for. She could have stayed under the spray of multiple shower heads for hours, but soon relinquished the comfort. Feeling human again, she wrapped her hair in a towel and tossed open her suitcases. Eyes searched for the right outfit for dinner, but she really wasn't sure what to wear. Should she dress in just jeans and a shirt or something a little more casual? It was warm enough out for a skirt and so she donned her black jean skirt that hit mid-thigh, a white studded belt to contrast, and stood half naked to figure out a shirt. She almost forsake underwear, but she wasn't in the desert anymore or required to wear her camo, so she put on a pair of blue hipsters and a bra to match. Her scars were visible all over her back and down one side of her torso- the result of a bomb exploding and she being close enough to get burn-scars and shrapnel in her back. After two months of physical therapy, they found she wasn't as strong or capable as she had been so she'd been discharged. It still stung her pride. Finally, her eyes settled on a dark gray top with black and blue designs of nothing special. It hugged her frame, but not so much that it would show how even the skin of her back was now. It was just what she needed to hide the damage that had been done. Her parents knew about it, but they hadn't seen the scars. She didn't want them to ever see the scars. Taking a breath so she didn't have a flashback, she put her hand to her eyes and focused on what her therapist had said - soft soothing music. Pachelbel's Cannon flowed through her mind and kept her grounded as she put on her sneakers and headed out the door, grabbing the pair of keys Sam had left behind. She wasn't sure what kind of car he was driving these days and the sight that waited for her in the garage stole her breath. It was a camaro. A classic 1969 black and white camaro- her dream car. She almost started crying at the sight of it, but settled for running her fingers along the smooth paint job. There was another note. Sam was a fan of notes. Ashlin, the car is in your name, but you'll have to pay me back for it since I know you would have killed me if it was free. I expect payments when you get a job so just take your time. Enjoy the ride, she purrs like a kitten. Welcome home, darling. Love, Sam. I could kill you, you wonderful asshole. She murmured, almost choking on the words. A car. He'd bought her a car. And as she held the note, she realized there was more written on the back from Tomas. She blinked at the words but smiled softly. Stay safe, Spitfire. We love you. - Tomas. She still didn't allow herself to cry. It didn't feel real to come home and have a car that was hers. She'd had to sell her old camaro and apartment when she'd been called overseas since she had decided to do two tours. Seeing this back in her possession, better than her old one, was like a dream. A dream that threatened to bring the nightmares forward. But she wasn't weak. She wasn't going to break down. Hopping into the driver's seat, she put it into first gear and turned over the engine, grinning in delight as it roared to life. Changing it into second, she pulled out of the garage and drove, music blaring as she left some of herself behind.