𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

                                    

                                          


 

┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓
ELECTRIFIED



THE SURFACE BENEATH EMERSON'S BODY WAS SOFTER THAN THE COUCH WAS, AND THAT WAS THE FIRST THING SHE NOTICED WHEN SHE ROSE.
"You snore when you sleep." 
She all but flinched at the sound of Derek's voice coming from her left, easily spotting the man sitting in a chair as he flipped through some pages of a book. He looked healthy, better now that his body was beginning to heal, and Emerson  didn't miss the way the chair was subtly pointed in her direction. 
Had he been keeping watch? 
"Good morning to you too," she scoffed, throwing the blanket that had been draped across her form to the side. 
"It's one in the afternoon," he corrected her, sparing the girl a side glance before returning to the pages that he really didn't even seem to be reading now. 
Emerson's mouth was agape. "What?" she asked as she scrambled upright, her feet padding across the loft to look at the clock that was hanging in the kitchen nearby. It showed that it was 1:03. "Why the hell would you let me sleep in for so long?! I was meant to check on Hannah, I needed to see if—" 
She hadn't noticed him start to approach as she kept looking at the hands on the clock, ticking away so incessantly in her ear, until he was right behind her. "Hey," he tried, cutting off her rambling and making her turn around frustratedly. "Relax. You took too much of my pain last night; you needed rest." 
"I don't need rest," she argued blandly. "What I need is to check on Hannah. Deucalion's probably realized I've flaked on him by now, I mean I was supposed to be back by sunrise, and he's probably sending fucking Kali to kill her and—" 
"Emerson," he stressed, his hands instinctually going to her shoulder blades. Either he wasn't aware that his finger was gently thumbing over her collarbone, or there was a good chance it was all in her head. "Peter's watching her." 
She blinked up at him. "What do you mean Peter's watching her?" 
He rolled his eyes. "I sent him to keep an eye on Hannah," he reassured her, "so if anyone steps foot into her room, we'll know about it. Plus, he's prepared to make a scene." 
Emerson's shoulders sank in relief, thought she could feel the shock of surprise that was circulating within her body. Derek had sent his uncle to watch the Prescott woman on her behalf, and that type of consideration alone made her chest swell with foreign warmth. 
Trying to dispel it, she couldn't help but laugh. "When isn't your uncle prepared to make a scene?" 
"Fair enough," Derek chuckled in return, and the blonde found herself hyper focused on the grin on his face before he continued on. "You smell better today." 
Was that meant to be an insult, or a weird Hale-kind of compliment? "I was taking your smelly pain, so yeah, no shit," she said with her nose shrivelled. "You really know how to make a girl swoon, huh Dere?" 
It was too late to take back the nickname, and judging from the smirk on the man's face, he knew it too. 
"It's my specialty," he shrugged rather cockily. "Now, you hungry?" 
Emerson nodded, internally mourning at the loss of his hands when he pulled away in pursuit of the fridge. "Are you gonna make something?" 
"I have other talents besides turning teenagers in werewolves, Em."