𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 | 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑

11: "YOU'RE NOT A BOY. . ."

☆彡:･;.*:･。

"SWEETHEART, YOU OKAY? Kylie?"

Veronica placed her chin on the counter to meet the eyes of the foster kid, who had her head on her arms, leaning on the counter of the bar. Kylie was zoned out, her parent's voice sounding far away and almost like she was underwater as she sat behind the bar.
She blinked slowly as V looked down at her, coming out of her daydream.

Kylie had cried herself to sleep last night, curled up in bed as she still clung to the sweatshirt of an old friend. She'd woken up multiple times during the night, tossing and turning as gruesome images popped into her head in the middle of the night.
She tried to take her mind off it, switching her TV on to some stupid, adult cartoon, but she felt restless the following morning when she awoke with a throbbing headache.

"Kylie," V repeated, feeling concerned. She didn't like how gloomy her little girl looked.

"I'm fine," Kylie assured, sitting up straight as she swayed on the stool, "just tired."
"Hm well that damn TV was left on last night, you need to stop sitting up late!" She scolded, placing a hand on her arm.
Ky just nodded and dismissed her, pretending she was right, "I know. I'll stop it."

"Good. Now let's go: you're coming with me to look after those four little soldiers at home," Veronica told her, grabbing her arm to get her off the chair. Kylie stumbled to her feet, waving goodbye at Kev, Fiona no Svetlana.
Kev had offered Fi a job and place at the bar for the meantime so she had a roof over her head and earn a little cash until she landed on her feet again.

Veronica pulled the girl out of the bar and walked down the streets together, talking the teen through her plan with what they were going to do for the refugee kids.
Kylie was happy to be spending the day with V at home because she didn't think she had the stability to be in the presence of her bosses. She was also glad she had plans to keep her occupied because she didn't something to take her mind off her late buddy, Conor.

She just couldn't get him out of her head.

V opened the door to the smell of something sour and musty, gagging in disguise.
Kylie scrunched her face up at the stench and held the door open for her and the pram, "it fucking stinks in here," she complained.
The kids were sitting on the floor when they stepped inside, holding different weapons in their hands.
V immediately snatched them from their grasp and locked them away in a cabinet, piling them on top of things Kylie had swiped over the years including a BB-gun.

"Okay, I'll take these two, you take the other two, got it?"

"Got it."

"Good. You need any shampoo?" V asked, picking them off the floor.

"No, it's all good," Kylie answered, leading two of the boys up to the other bathroom- her bathroom as she liked to call it. Like V in the other room, she stripped the kids from their clothing and put them into the bath, and began to wash their hair.
It was times like this when Kylie realized kids weren't that bad all the time— once you got past the infant stage, you basically had mini best friends for life.

"So what're your guys' names?" She asked them, pouring water over their heads to rinse out the shampoo. It was very silent in the room and she didn't want them to feel uncomfortable.