MHA #3; Saturday Morning [03/30].

[died8yearsago]

There were a lot of very confusing (though not entirely bad, which was possibly the most confusing part about all of it) things going on that morning for Sonia when she woke up, to the point where she had to pinch herself a little to make sure it wasn't all just some bizarre dream. She didn't even need to open her eyes to know that she was definitely not in her small village in Colombia, because this bed was much too nice and big. And then there was the room to confirm it once she did open her eyes; no one had a room like this back home, this was the sort of room that belonged in the nice houses that sisters who stole your life from you had in California. Then there was the dog, sleeping in its own bed, inside, and looking far too well fed. And then there was another person in the bed with her that she could already tell was not Antonio Marquez's father with the wooden leg that he lost in the flood.

This place probably even had indoor plumbing that didn't burst or break every three days or so.

She...probably shouldn't question it too much. But, at the same time, Sonia was almost a little too afraid to move or do or say anything or start questioning the mysterious man beside her about her current situation, because that would be just when the other wooden leg would drop...

[[and mostly for that other person, but also open if anyone's wanting to swing around ]]

[[/au spam. for noooow.]]

Comments

[what_the_shock]

Miguel murmured in his sleep, rolled over, and wrapped an arm around his partn- breasts. Those were breasts. Nice ones, but. “Um.”

Did he want to open his eyes?