Author's Note: Why hello, lovelies. This story just randomly struck me as I was thinking about a title for the book I wanted to write about my life, and Fingerless Gloves and a Rockstar simply hit me. I always wear fingerless gloves, and I usually have a Rockstar energy drink. Trinity is based a bit off myself, yet entirely different, I promise. Yes, this is an OC/Connor story, but it will be eventual Connor/Abby. Eventually. Primeval belongs to its rightful owners, as does Rockstar, and anything else I drag in here that you know for a fact doesn't belong to me.
She hadn't always been like that. I haven't always been like this, either. But there was something about her, something that was incredibly appealing. Even though she was sick when I met her, I fell in love with every aspect of her out-of-bed look and smeared mascara from all the coughing. Nobody knew what was wrong with her, only that she had gone missing and came back dangerously ill. I never figured that it had anything to do with the anomalies. Poor girl.