Brenton Thwaites Imagines

Breakfast From Babe

"Finally!" I sighed happily as I threw my bag on the chair and collapsed on the couch. I groaned as I noticed the time.

2 am??? I am working way too damn hard. And for a job I hate! Why did I tell dad I would work for Mr. Darlington? I hate law! And the government! It's so boring! I'm not even a lawyer. I'm a lawyers stupid assistant. In other words, I literally do Mr. Darlington's job. He does absolutely nothing.

My inner rant was interrupted by the ringing of my phone. Groaning I rolled off the couch, landing on the floor, face down. Muttering colorful words I answered the phone.

"Well hello to you too Sunshine." Hearing his voice made me smile.

"Hi Brenton. Wait why are you calling me at 2 in the morning?"

"I just got off work and I figured so did you!" He said happily.

"Closing again huh?" I smiled.

"Yeah. I'm like the only bartender Scott trusts. But he pays me well so I don't care."

"You didn't have any girls hitting on you again right? Cause if you did I'm gonna have to beat them up." I said in a joking matter as I stood up.

"No. Some guy rented it out for a work party so it's okay." Man, I missed him. I worked all day and sometimes all night and he worked most night shifts at the local bar so we never see each other that much.

"Katie? Are you alright?" His concern brought me back to the present.

"I just..... I'm tired. Physically and mentally. I'm tired of working my ass off for a job that I have zero interest in. I'm tired of seeing the stupid jerks at the office more than I see my own boyfriend. I miss being with you. I miss going on dates with you. I miss you." I took a shaky breathe as tears welled up.

"I miss you too Kate. I wish I could change things but..... I can't. I'm sorry."

"It's okay Brenton. It's not your fault my dad still has complete control over my life." I walked into my room and put my phone on speaker as I changed out of my pant suit.

"Not complete control. He's in Maine not New York. Katie, I think you need to talk to him."

"I've tried! He doesn't listen." I slipped my shirt over my head as I heard Brenton laugh.

"You're changing aren't you?"

"Yep!" I laughed popping the p.

"Wanna Skype?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"You wish." By the time we had stopped laughing I had successfully put on spanks and a loose tank top.

"Will you read me to sleep?" I asked laying in bed.

"What would you like me to read?" I could hear the smile in his voice.

After thinking about it, I smiled. "The Secret Garden."

He chuckled. "Hang on a minute. Let me grab it." With my phone in hand I ran to the kitchen a made myself some Hot Chocolate.

I got back into my room and snuggled into bed as Brenton started reading. *** "Chapter One; There is No One Left.
When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle, everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too. She had a little thin face and a little thin body, thin light hair and a sour expression. Her hair was yellow, and her face was hello because she had been born in India and had always been ill in one way or another. Her father has held a position under the English Government and had always  been busy and ill himself, and her mother had been a great beauty who cared only to go to parties and amuse herself with gay(this book was written back when gay went happy) people.  She had not wanted a little girl at all, and when Mary was born she handed her over to the care of an Ayah, who was made to understand that if she wished to please the Memsahib she must keep the child out of sight as much as possible. So when she was a sickly, fretful, ugly little baby she was kept out of the way, and when she became sickly, fretful, riddling thins she was kept out of the way also. She never remembered seeing familiarly anything but the dark faces of her Ayah and the other native servants, and as they always obeyed her and gave her her own way in everything, because the Memsahib would be angry is she was disturbed by her crying, by the time she was six years old age was as tyrannical and selfish a little pig as ever lived." ***