Blaze Davis is the girl in the shadows. The one no one notices but if given a chance, could light up your world with a personality as unique as the scars adorning her body like damaged armour. She has secrets no one knows and hidden beneath that mas...
"The sunrise in your eyes warms the coldest fragments of my soul"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❃ B l a z e ❃
"You're like a coyote," Bree muttered bitterly as she glanced at Travis, a bright grin splitting his face.
"Is this your way of saying I'm a cutie? Shucks Bree," he waved his hand dismissively, a smitten laugh bubbling up his throat.
Ann rolled her eyes and continued doing her homework in the uncomfortable hospital chair, cracking her neck.
"No you muppet, coyotes eat almost everything," Bree cringed distastefully at the plate in Trav's hands. The smile drained from his face as he rubbed his temples.
"I thought you were being romantic," Travis sighed dramatically and Ann glared at him.
"We're in a hospital, Travis. Mr. Alston's in a coma not even three feet beside you," she snapped and Travis' pouted.
"Hey, I'm giving him company while Jonah's out." Jo and Raf were downstairs dealing with some insurance papers with Mr. Hernandez who had been more than ready to help out.
"If the doctors don't wake Mr. Alston up, I'm sure Trav will because of his incessant chattering," I murmured under my breath, knowing Everett and Travis would get along quite well.
"Where did you even get that?" Bree interrupted, gesturing towards Travis' tray which was heaped with something that resembled burnt coleslaw.
"I stole it from Room 304's cart." Pride saturated his voice.
"Room 304? An eighty two year old woman is hospitalised there, Trav." Bree's harsh whisper was laced with incredulity.
"She probably has dentures, babe. I'm making sure the food doesn't go to waste."
"You stole from an octogenarian?" I muttered in disbelief and Travis' eyes pinched in confusion.
"An octa-what now? Is that the British version of the Pentagon? Is she a secret agent or something?" Genuine curiosity and excitement frothed in his tone.
"Was he dropped on his head as a child?" Ann muttered harshly, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
"Who?" The door creaked open as Rafael entered, Jonah in tow.
"Travis Dumbass Willows, of course," Ann gritted but she trailed off when Mr. Hernandez entered the room, his power exuding with just one brisk smile.
