☆ 𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗦 : what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?
After the death of her mother, 17 y/o Deena Salée rummage through her mother's things for answers. She dis...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐑, 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐘𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑, Deena stayed up the entire day filling out required forms to attend Tulane University this upcoming fall since everyone was on lockdown after Finn's death.
A lot of thinking went into her future and what she planned to major in. Given she was the only aside from her mother who attended college and was financially supported, there wasn't any stress on Deena's shoulders. No obligations as Quinn put it. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted just for the fun of it, the experience. If she messed up, oh well! She could go at it again or do something else with her life.
But for now, Deena decided to major in Culinary Arts. The university provided its separate program still connected just for culinary. Then after graduation, she'd obtain all the qualifications needed to one day open her own restaurant here in New Orleans. Or cook for the hottest spot amongst talented chefs and travel the world mostly to cook and eat. A simple and obtainable dream.
A knock at the door alarmed Deena, but she was calm this time. The deed was in Aunt Freya's name. Not just anyone could enter and this house was never empty. There was always someone if not everyone was present.
She sat up as her boyfriend entered her bedroom. "Erik," a mixture of surprise and confusion touched her tongue.
Just as she knew, he was safe. Alive. Dressed in a solid thick-sleeved tank top paired over casual shorts, much similar to Deena's attire except her shorts were much shorter. His freshly twisted locs were messily tied up with no spec of dread molding his features. His arms were full of stuff, but not bleeding out to death or on his knees begging for forgiveness. It was just another day to him, and that pissed her off.
"I hope it isn't too late to make up for your birthday but I came bearing gifts." He plopped beside Deena and set a small container of what should look like a cake before her. It was crumbled on one side and lumpy with a thin coat of pink icing. Scattered sprinkles didn't help either. "It's a little wonky-looking I admit, but it does taste good if you ignore the burnt bottom. And if you squint from afar, it almost looks pretty."
