Aspen Juniper Veata has only ever known Beacon Hills to be a quiet and dainty town. Herself, along with her best friends Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski, had gone unnoticed by their peers in high school for as long as they could remember. Aspen ha...
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The week went by in a blink. Charlie was rushed to the hospital the night, Aspen refusing to leave until Melissa convinced her otherwise. The young Veata Elementalist cried for the third time that night in Melissa's arms, akin to a mother soothing a daughter. She remembered that feeling. Why did she remember that feeling?
Stiles and Mina stayed with Charlie the rest of the night. She didn't care to know who the pale boy was. It was the first time Mina showed any type of concern for her daughter.
Isaac's stab wound was healed, and he took Aspen home. Her tears were all dried out, her throat sore from her cries. Grandpa Sam only watched as Isaac took her up to her bathroom and locked the door behind them.
Isaac has never seen something beautiful but unearthly. So primal and raging but so ethereal. Aspen's memory of that night was fogged with rage and grief, and protection. Her primal instinct checked in. As if something was trying to touch her territory.
The dim light of her wide bathroom made the sweat on Aspen's head shine. Isaac stood in front of her, his leather jacket abandoned, leaving him in a grey t-shirt. Her dilated eyes were trained on his chest. Isaac sighed through his nose. He placed a hand delicately on Aspen's shoulder, his other hand lifting her chin up with his knuckle. Her head was heavy, knowing if he let go, it would just hang downward. Instead, her lidded eyes found him, and his eyes flickered to her full lips.
"You're gonna be okay," he said lowly, his thumb grazing her cheekbone. "I promise."
She stayed quiet as if her voice was too far gone. Isaac licked his lips. He knew he wouldn't get a word out of her. Not after what she saw. What she did. He slowly let her lean back on the cold counter. In one swift movement, he placed a lingering kiss on the crown of her head and moved to the shower, turning on the water. A tear slipped down Aspen's cheeks at the contact of his lips, and she squeezed her eyes shut. He was so close yet so far.
The bathroom was soon wafting in steam. But it brought her mind to be null and relaxed and forget the cold that had taken over her body.
Aspen's expression was null of anything. Isaac didn't hesitate to lift her arms slowly. His hands pinched the ends of her sweater and gently lifted it over her head. The shirt came after, and Isaac didn't bother to ogle her body. Not when she was in pain. This was only about her tonight. He held her arm as she stepped out of her pants and underwear. Her bra was last, and steam took over every curve of her body.
Isaac never let her go as she stepped into the shower. The water pounded on her back, soaking her hair. But her eyes stayed ahead. Only names flew through her head. Lydia. Stiles. Scott. Allison. Erica. Derek. Boyd. Jackson. Danny. Sam. Charlie--
Charlie.
She almost killed Charlie.
History that could be true might have repeated itself—blood against blood.
