dalphahale:

iamthefirechild:

She narrowed her eyes and crinkled her nose at him, disdainful of his doubt of her, and went back to writing. Shoes. He would let her stay with him, but for how long? Her gaze slipped out of focus as she wondered what she would do with her time — after all, if he was planning to feed and house her, the time she’d spent every time taking care of those needs would be free time. 

She supposed she could spend the time trying to recover her memories. The more she tried to think ahead, the more questions she discovered, and Derek had already refused to answer questions. She frowned worriedly down at the page, flicking her gaze up to watch him through her eyelashes.

Derek came to the conclusion that she liked to write a lot. He watched her closely, still eating his steak. She seemed to drift away from the pad in front of her, but he made a mental note that she would also want shoes.

He raised a brow when he looked back at her and shrugged his shoulders before he picked up both their plates and brought them to the sink. “Would you like anything else?”

Stomach full, comfortable and safe for the first time in weeks, she caught herself zoning out again, watching him move around the kitchen with only a vague awareness. When he spoke again she started, bumping against the table. She put a hand over her heart to try to slow its rapid beating, and slowly, dazedly shook her head.

The couch seemed to cradle her, encouraging her to relax, though her thoughts still whirled madly. She managed to lift one hand, and beckoned to Derek, wondering if he would come and sit with her, maybe let her lean against his side a little.

dalphahale:

iamthefirechild:

Summer flicked a quick glance up at him, before bending back to finish the steak. It was really good, and it didn’t take much longer before the plate held nothing but smears. She picked up the pencil again, tapping it on the pad. Compressing her lips together, and trying to ignore how uncomfortable it made her feel, she wrote a list of things she needed. A shower was at the top of the list, followed by clean clothes.

Derek was surprised she finished so fast, eating his food slowly as she began to write again. “Is that a list?” He asked, trying to see what exactly she had wrote. “A shower, clean clothes,” his eyes were squinted at the paper. “Yes, we’ll get to all that. I have a shower upstairs that you can use. I assume you know how to use one..”

She narrowed her eyes and crinkled her nose at him, disdainful of his doubt of her, and went back to writing. Shoes. He would let her stay with him, but for how long? Her gaze slipped out of focus as she wondered what she would do with her time — after all, if he was planning to feed and house her, the time she’d spent every time taking care of those needs would be free time. 

She supposed she could spend the time trying to recover her memories. The more she tried to think ahead, the more questions she discovered, and Derek had already refused to answer questions. She frowned worriedly down at the page, flicking her gaze up to watch him through her eyelashes.

dalphahale:

iamthefirechild:

Her hand closed more tightly on the knife for a moment, muscles trembling. Worrying was the only thing that had kept her alive this long; constant, relentless focus on what she needed to /stay/ alive. Shelter. Protection. Food.

She forced herself to relax her hand, setting the knife down. After the moment of anger passed, she wrote, slowly, ‘things have been uncertain for a long time. I want to be certain. and I still don’t know your name.’

Derek watched her as her hand began to shake, uncertain what she was getting at. He bit another piece of steak, not worried about what she might do. He was a werewolf, an Alpha to be exact. He knew the fragile girl couldn’t harm him.

“Derek,” he said with a quick rub of his scruff. “Derek Hale. Lived here all my life before you ask because I know you’re going to.” He was slightly amused with himself. “And no, I don’t have any family here.”

Summer flicked a quick glance up at him, before bending back to finish the steak. It was really good, and it didn’t take much longer before the plate held nothing but smears. She picked up the pencil again, tapping it on the pad. Compressing her lips together, and trying to ignore how uncomfortable it made her feel, she wrote a list of things she needed. A shower was at the top of the list, followed by clean clothes.

dalphahale:

iamthefirechild:

She gave up. The steak smelled amazing, and her stomach growled. She tapped her hands together quickly, to get his attention, and wrote, ‘may I have some water please?’ If he was going to insist on giving her things, she was going to be as polite as possible about asking. Maybe he would let her have a shower after she ate?

Just like with the apple, she took her time about starting in, breathing deep of the way the steak smelled, before putting a bit in her mouth. She was hard put to not just devour the whole thing as fast as she could. It had been so long since she’d eaten anything other than fast food or whatever cheap cold food she could get at the grocery store with the small change people gave her.

In between bites, again, she wrote out a list of things she wanted to know. Where could she get clothes? Where would she sleep? 

Derek turned at the tapping and nodded. He got her a glass of water and set it in front of her. “Is it good?” he asked with some amusement in his voice. Of course he knew that it was good. He was a pretty good cook when it came to anything that was protein. He went back to the kitchen and grabbed his own plate before sitting across from her on a chair. He was watching her closely, wondering how someone so fragile could be ignored for so long.

He took a bite of his food when he saw her questions, shaking his head. “You need to stop worrying,” he said, simple between a mouthful of steak. “You can have some of Cora’s clothes and you can sleep on that couch.” He tilted his head. “Any of questions?”

Her hand closed more tightly on the knife for a moment, muscles trembling. Worrying was the only thing that had kept her alive this long; constant, relentless focus on what she needed to /stay/ alive. Shelter. Protection. Food.

She forced herself to relax her hand, setting the knife down. After the moment of anger passed, she wrote, slowly, ‘things have been uncertain for a long time. I want to be certain. and I still don’t know your name.’

dalphahale:

iamthefirechild:

She frowned, huffing. There was no way he was just going to give her shelter, food — just give, with no expectations? ‘how is this supposed to work? I have NOTHING. No clothes no money no home. Really you’re just going to give me things?’

“I have a lot to give,” he said with a shrug. He didn’t expect her to give him anything and he knew she wouldn’t be staying with him for forever. When the steak was done, he brought it over to her with a knife and fork. “Here, eat this.” He set it down in front of her before returning to the kitchen.

She gave up. The steak smelled amazing, and her stomach growled. She tapped her hands together quickly, to get his attention, and wrote, ‘may I have some water please?’ If he was going to insist on giving her things, she was going to be as polite as possible about asking. Maybe he would let her have a shower after she ate?

Just like with the apple, she took her time about starting in, breathing deep of the way the steak smelled, before putting a bit in her mouth. She was hard put to it not to just devour the whole thing as fast as she could. It had been so long since she’d eaten anything other than fast food or whatever cheap cold food she could get at the grocery store with the small change people gave her.

In between bites, again, she wrote out a list of things she wanted to know. Where could she get clothes? Where would she sleep? 

dalphahale:

iamthefirechild:

Clutching the remnants of the apple in one hand and the pencil and pad in the other, she obediently sat on the couch, positioning herself to watch him. Slowly, remembering to take a bite every now and then, she wrote out what she could remember. Her name, Summer. That she couldn’t remember her home, or her life. That someone was hunting her, someone she could sense as absence instead of presence.

For a long moment she watched him move around the kitchen, confident and sure, and her gaze was sad. Then she bent to the paper again. ‘I have nothing. No way to repay.’

Derek quickly whipped up some steak with the seasonings he had. He was going to share this with Cora when she came in to visit but figured that this girl needed food more than his sister did at the moment. His attention turned back to her when he had them on the stove, his head shaking when he read the note. “You don’t owe me anything. Don’t worry about it.”

She frowned, huffing. There was no way he was just going to give her shelter, food — just give, with no expectations? ‘how is this supposed to work? I have NOTHING. no clothes no money no home. really you’re just going to give me things?’