Scarlett x daughter one-shots

Adopted pt. 2

This story deals with mentions of abuse. Please read responsibly.

Part 2 of Adopted

Reader gets adopted by Scarlett after bumping into her.

Reader is any age in her teens.

THIS IS STILL NOT READ OVER! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

:::

YOUR POV:

I blink rapidly, trying not to fall asleep. I'm still embarrassed about the interaction a few days ago with the lovely lady, Scarlett? Was that her name?

Anyway, I'm pretty sure a part of my soul died. Like I left when she was talking! She probably thought I was a mean, moody teenager. I'm not. At least, I think I'm not. Mum didn't think so when she was alive.

Oh, great.

Now I'm going all emo and depressed.

Ugh. Just my luck. I need a break.

I walk towards the open window, scowling as I remember my mishap the last time I jumped. I jump anyway, landing on the floor with a smack.

Damn it, I need to stop doing this. At this rate, my legs will be immune to falling onto water from the bridge. Snazzy, right? I'll become Strong-legsgirl or Immunetoheightsgirl. God. I suck at naming things.

I walk towards the bus stop at the end of the block. I'm going to Manhattan. That place is way too messy. People won't even know if I pickpocket them. I know it's terrible but I'm poor, okay? And don't say, 'oh Y/N, why can't you just go busking,' I can't. Stupid father broke my stupid ukelele. 

//

The bus ride to Manhattan was okay but really really long. I was on the bus for like two freaking hours. And I only live half an hour away. Half an hour away for a car ride. Not a walk.

I wrinkle my nose in disgust. Good old Manhattan. Never gets rid of the disgusting smell of weed. And the sewage. Sewage on the street, sewage everywhere. 

I spot way too many victims of my pickpocketing business. I decide to go after a man waiting at the crowd's edge to walk across the street. I walk a bit faster and bump into him.

Oof.

"I'm so, so sorry, sir," I say, widening my eyes. My hand slips into his pocket.

Ew. What the heck does he put in his pockets.

"It's fine," he replies, curtly.

Shit. I need to go faster. The crosswalk light across from me just finished. I have three seconds until everybody moves.

I quickly pull out a chunk of cash and slip the man's wallet back into his pocket. I grin in satisfaction, walking away.

//

I've been pickpocketing for around an hour now. Twelve victims have fallen into my hands. There's still one more person I want to go after, though. She's a pretty short woman who's probably rich. I can tell by the way she dresses. She's all elegant unless she's faking it. 

Her style is somewhat odd. It's not even sunny out and she's wearing sunglasses and a hat. 

It's going to be an easy one. Open purse, has a cute kid, talking to someone on the phone. Easy. 

Well.

Maybe not so easy anymore. She just hung up. And now she's looking for something in her purse. Just my luck.