|αllíє αndrαdα wíll stєαl чσur ♥ (stoolpigeon) wrote in immune_ic,|
@ 2011-11-20 15:32:00
|Entry tags:||# 2011  november|
WHO: Allie and Ollie
WHEN: November 19, 2018; the wee hours of the morning
WHERE: Their room at Federal Hall
WHY: Ollie went out after dark and got into some trouble. Allie gets her moment of "I told you so."
HOW: Probably some swearing.
STATUS: In progress
|It was a bad time to attempt to kick her habit of nail-biting. Sleep refused to take her and would continue to do so until her brother had returned. Six years ago, Allie wouldn't have batted more than four eyelashes if Ollie had told her he was going out to spend time with some girl he'd met. It more or less meant he was working her over as a target, a rich broad who had something worth taking. That, Allie didn't mind.|
Add zombies into the equation, and quite a few more eyelashes were being batted. It was bad enough Ollie insisted on going out during the day, taking on missions he had no business doing when he wasn't even sure he was immune to the virus. But when he was sneaking out at night to go and have a drink with some person named Lady Ricardo, whom he had met on the intranet and therefore knew nothing about? Allie was inclined to put her foot down. Which she did. It erupted into a huge argument, one that her brother inevitably won. Furious, Allie had shouted after him that he'd be sorry and she'd be waiting with an "I told you so."
When he'd left, the woman had curled up under her blankets, trying to muffle the sound of her crying. Hours later, she sat on her mattress, alternately eying the door and peering out the window, chewing on her fingernails in her anxiety to see her brother return.