I Do Not Own Bones
Angela pushed herself into a sitting position, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and slipping on some slippers. She was wearing silky pajama pants and a skimpy silk top. Her head was throbbing, but nothing she couldn't deal with, a little booze and the pain would numb. Quick and simple, just the way she liked it. Or had been since her break up with Hodgins. She blinked tears from her eyes and turned around towards the bed where, yet another, stranger slept.
'I can't keep doing this.' She thought to herself. She shook her head as if throwing the thoughts out of her mind before walking into the kitchen and grabbing her vodka bottle, which was running low and soon to be empty.
It was the same thing every day. Wake up to a stranger in the bed or tears in her eyes. Stand up, slip on slippers, and drink away her problems. Go in to work, hide the slight buzz, and act like everything is normal. Just like every other guy she had ever been with. Never had she been driven to this.
She walked out into the living room and flopped down onto the couch, curling her legs to her chest and taking gulps of her drink. The dizzying feelings registered themselves deep in her brain as her giggly side set in, her weak and fumbling side. Her pain free, numb, stumbling side. She smiled weakly as the empty bottle slipped from her hand to the floor with a loud crash, glass spilling out across the floor. Already, the scene was disasterous.
The man, who had been quietly readying himself in her room, walked out, glancing ever so slightly at the broken glass, keeping his eyes trained on the drunk and vulnerable Angela. He strode over to her, grasping her shoulders tightly and pulling her against his body. A slight cry escaped her mouth as she hit his chest hard. Her already bruised body was cringing away in pain, her muscles tensing, her mind confused.
She pushed him roughly away from her, trying hard to release her arms from his grip but she couldn't budge, instead, he through her to the ground, her side hitting glass, bruises becoming cuts, cuts becoming gashes as she cried out in pain. The guy leaned over, kissed her roughly on the mouth, and walked out, laughing crudely.
Angela lay still for a few minutes before struggling dully to her feet, blood staining her right side. She paid it little mind, removed the glass shards, applied a few band-aids, and through on a long sleeve shirt, tears bubbling painfully in her eyes as she tried her best to block out the pain.
As she walked into work, her steps slow and pain ridden, Hodgins caught her eye. He glanced sideways at her, gave a soft smile, and hurried away. She had no time to respond with a smile of her own or any other movement, but she didn't mind. More like blessed it. One person, who didn't look away from her, although she paid him no mind, was Wendell. His face a mixture of worry and caring, a look no one could see.
I wanted to have a little Angela/Wendell story. This takes place after Angela and Hodgins break up. Please review