The sight of my house underneath the light of the crescent moon brought a wave of comfort through my entire body when Aiden parked in our driveway. Exhaustion heavily weighed down on my body like two cinderblocks were tied to each one of my limbs.
The mere act of walking up to my front door and up the stairs to the second floor barely left me with enough energy to twist my bedroom door knob and step inside. All I wanted was to fall into a deep sleep before my alarm went off in the early morning when I needed to meet Lydia at the Sheriff's Station with Stiles.
She spent the majority of her night at her family's lake house, determined to discover more about her grandmother, which ultimately ended with Lydia believing she could potentially still be alive to this day. Her messages blew up the group chat with a detailed explanation of how her grandmother could be aiding the Benefactor. However, after the third text bubble, my eyes refused to focus on the small letters.
The overhead light in my bedroom temporarily blinded me as I flipped the switch on with my right hand. I blinked through the brightness until my eyes adjusted and I noticed a figure near my bookshelf.
"Holy shit!" I gasped.
The back of my right shoulder slammed against the door frame when I jumped back, overwhelmed with fear.
Malia halfheartedly turned around with a piece of paper pressed between her fingertips. A stoic expression was present on her facial features with her focus solely locked on the paper in front of her chest.
A hand pressed over my chest while my heart rapidly beat underneath it, startled by her random appearance in my bedroom at the late hour. The atmosphere of the room was filled with a tension I couldn't name yet.
I hesitantly stepped further into my own room and tossed my jacket on the edge of my bed. "We really could have used your help tonight," I tentatively told her. "Where were you?"
"Talking to Peter."
Her answer stopped me in my tracks. That was one answer I didn't expect to receive from her. My eyes squinted at the side of her face, suspiciously. The suspicion didn't arise because I assumed she was lying to me. No, I was more concerned with Peter talking to her without anyone else in the pack around. He was a well known manipulator.
"Was that really a good idea?" I asked.
The piece of paper in her hands caught the light above our heads and resembled a part of the Deadpool list with names and numbers printed in black ink across the white sheet. I had no doubt the paper contained her real name; Malia Hale.
"If he can help me find my mother, I don't think I care," Malia softly responded with a slight shrug of her shoulders.
My face softened at her genuine curiosity. There wasn't a single part of me that blamed Malia for wanting to find her biological mother. I simply feared her going through Peter wasn't the best way to do so. Peter Hale wasn't someone who could be trusted. He always had a secret ulterior motive.
"Look," I began and stepped further into the room until there was roughly three feet left between us. "I know you want to find your mother and I'm not going to stop you from doing so—"
Her face faltered before she regained her blank expression.
"— but I don't know if talking to Peter about it is the best idea," I finished. My head tilted to the side as I analyzed her facial expressions. "I need you to remember that even though you're related to him, you're not like him."
She dropped the paper down to her side, clenched between her fingers and turned to face me for the first time. "Maybe I am."
I swiftly closed the remaining distance between us and placed my hands on her shoulders. "You're not," I reassured her. "I know Peter and you're nothing like him."
"The night I caused the car crash—"
"You mean the night when you were out of control because of the full moon?" I reminded her, eyebrows raised.
Malia nervously met my gaze. "There's a part I didn't tell you about—"
My right hand lifted from her shoulder and was held out in front of her body. "If you're about to tell me how you're the one that killed them then don't bother. Peter is just getting into your head. You didn't kill them, Malia."
"Right before we got in the car, my mother..." Malia paused and pressed her lips together, realizing her mistake. "My adoptive mother, I guess..."
The story was clearly hard for her to share. My heart ached for her. She struggled to get the words out of her mother, let alone make eye contact. Frankly, I was surprised she hadn't forced my left hand off of her shoulder yet.
"We got into a huge fight. I don't even remember what it was about..." Her eyes welled with tears she refused to shed. "I remember what I said. I said, 'I wish you were all dead.'"
A strong look of regret and pain flashed upon her face. My hand returned to her shoulders as I gently encouraged her to look me in the eyes instead of pointedly ignoring me gaze. She lowered her eyes to the floor until I lightly shook her enough to gain her attention once more.
"Killing doesn't run in a family," I stressed to her, voice clear. "Violence doesn't run in a family. My dad was an awful person and I'm nothing like him."
Malia steadily held my gaze. "Maybe it does in mine."
"It doesn't," I deadpanned with a defiant shake of my head. "I know who you are, Malia, and you're not a killer."
"You don't know anything about me."
A look of disbelief crossed my face at her words. "Seriously?" I questioned her.
The two of us stared at each other; a stubborn expression on her face, and shock on mine. A scoff flew off my lips.
"Okay," I mumbled and nodded to myself. "Then tell me how I know that, despite surviving as a were-coyote for the last couple years of your life, you fight against your natural instincts of only ever putting yourself first every day since you've been a part of this pack. You struggle with learning how to care for others, yet you still put in that effort because you care. You care about people, Malia, whether you believe it or not."
She shifted on her feet while the blank look on her face faltered.
My arms folded over my chest as my head tilted to the side. "In fact, you were worried about me even before we became friends," I pointed out. "The day when the pack was trying to protect you from your father— your real father, not Peter, the asshole— my ankle got caught in a steel animal trap. You heard me cry out in pain and slowly approached me."
Malia blinked as her facial expressions gradually began to change.
"Honestly, I thought you were going to kill me, but you surprised me by nudging your nose against my hand because— guess what, Malia— you were concerned." I continued with my chin jutted forward. "I know you a lot better than you think I do."
The room filled with complete silence aside from our light breathing as we stared back at each other after my rant. My words seemed to have taken aback Malia and surprised her in ways she hadn't expected. Her face softened when the words stopped spewing from my lips. There was a confused look in her eyes as if she was unsure of how to respond.
Time passed in a blur when Malia suddenly sprung forward. Every muscle in my body tensed at the warm sensation of her soft lips against mine. Air caught in the base of my throat, startled by her actions. The palms of her hands gently— yet roughly— grasped at the sides of my face before she abruptly pulled back.
My lips parted in utter shock, unable to form coherent thoughts or words. This was not something I ever expected to happen. Malia took notice of the shock written upon my face before she rushed out of my bedroom without a second glance back.
"What the—" My mouth opened and closed multiple times, lost for words. "What the hell just happened?"
XXXX
Hi. Okay. I was debating just only posting this part, but the second part is going to be pretty long and I'm struggling with a portion of it. So, I decided to just post this part here. And for personal reasons, writing and updating my stories isn't on the top of my list right now.
For those of you who are a part of my emailing list, you received the email about it yesterday, but for those of you who are not a part of that, there's been a serious family emergency that has taken focus on my life. My mental health has been very bad for that reason currently.
Anyways, I decided to throw a little bit of a plot twist into this story. I wasn't sure if it was completely a good idea, so I talked to my best friend about it and she seemed for it after I explained some things to her.
However, i am quite curious to see how you feel about this chapter.
So, yeah!