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"𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒."
- 𝖮𝗇𝖾 𝖣𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇
☆ﾟ*･｡*･:★*･｡*･:☆
"It'll be easy," she said, "Just go visit Mum. It's her birthday and at least one of us has to give her company," Talia insisted.
"Why did I agree to this?" the woman said as she sat in her car in front of the local bar.
"Why can't you go?" Arietta asked begrudgingly, a groan emitting from her lips as she looked between her older siblings.
"I'm an Alpha with responsibilities and have three kids, one of which has just turned one a couple of months ago," Talia would retort with a playful scoff, nudging her younger sister with a huge victorious smirk on her face.
"Why not Peter?" Arietta questioned desperately, grasping at anything to be sidelined in the current family dilemma. Peter smirked, leaning back on the couch with a smug facade.
"Have you met Peter? Since when does anyone enjoy his company?" Talia retorted playfully, pleading with her eyes for her youngest sibling to agree.
"Seriously," she groaned, her head still thumping in pain after listening to her mother yell at the new computer screen for nearly three hours straight, "Why not Peter?" Arietta groaned in frustration, her head laying firmly on the steering wheel of her car. The two-day trip, uncomfortable motel bed, the screaming of the Hale mama's house, added on top of the stress of hunters being anywhere. Arietta thought she deserved a night to herself.
"Fuck it," she decided, at that moment, and opened her car door before she could rationalise her decision. With meaning to her stride, the young Hale woman waltzed into the Knoxville bar, heading straight to the wooden stool at the counter in front of the walls of liquor.
Knowing she can't get drunk, Arietta decided to try her hardest to get tipsy, at least. So, as the bartender approached, the raven-haired Hale studied him for a moment, before leaning back in preparation, "Hit me with the hard stuff," she nodded. The man left, a white hand towel perched over his shoulder as he retrieved a glass and filled it to the brim.
As soon as the cup was placed down, the drink was thrown back and the bartender was already getting her another.
"I'll have what the lady's having," a British accent sounded to Arietta Hale's right, followed by a stool moving. The piano in the corner of the bar played loudly, a woman on stage singing memorised words, and the people buzzed around inside the rustic building.
A drink was placed in front of the woman again, and as quickly as she downed the last, she drank the new one.
"Careful, Love," the British accented man spoke, turning in his seat to face the woman as he drank a drink of his own.
