Distance [Derek Hale]

Chapter Thirteen

"I'm going to the ice rink tonight with Scott, Allison, and Lydia," Stiles said as he was shovelling pancakes into his mouth. She was now on the track to making her own and like every morning the pair were simply catching up. It felt nice to be told something that wasn't to do with the supernatural world. Truth be told, she'd been overwhelmed by nausea and she didn't want to eat anything but she knew that if she didn't eat anything then she'd end up worse off.

Despite her want to simply stay in her pyjama's all day, she'd gotten dressed in a rusty red dress that fell below her knees. It had short sleeves and a deep v-neck and it sinched in right below her bust. It was fairly tight until her waist where it flared out. It was a romantic summertime dress that she was often found in.

"Lydia? Is this a double date? Did you finally get a date with Lydia?" She asked, her voice slow and he nodded with a smile.

"I don't think she really sees it as a date, but at the very least I can try and convince her to give me a chance," he urged and she raised her brow out of amusement as she turned to look at him.

"Please just remember that if she says no then to leave it alone and that her not liking you doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you. It's simply a case of people like different people," she reminded as she turned back to focus on her food.

"You act like I'm going to fail, by the way..." she hummed to show that she was still listening, "can I borrow fifty dollars?" She practically choked on her own spit as she whirled around to look at him.

"Fifty?" She asked, and he nodded with a serene smile. She stared at him for a few seconds before sighing, "my purse is in my coat. I want that fifty back-" she warned pointing the spatula at him as she did so.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he assured as he went to grab it before leaving.

The stillness of the house felt like the thick air right as the heavens were about to open and it was going to rain. It reminded her how tired she was and how slowly her body was beginning to shut down. Wiping her hand over her head she fell forward allowing her hand to rest on the counter.

It screamed for her to wakeup.

In her delirious state, she'd pressed her hand against the pan and she quickly brought it back crying out in pain. Turning off the oven, she rushed over to the sink turning on the cold tap and shoving her hand beneath it allowing the gentle gushes to treat the agony which was shooting through her. How had she made such a stupid mistake?

Staring at the bright red wound made her feel tired. It made her feel like she couldn't work properly; no functioning bone in her body. Broken and tired and empty. The three things which plagued her and made everything so difficult.

After around forty minutes under the tap (she was terrified of seeing the water bill at the end of the month) she grabbed onto the first aid kit and began to dress the wound and treat it as google told her to.

Holding the book out - skillfully she'd been doing everything with one hand until the pain began to subside - she continued to read from the pages out loud. If anyone would have seen her then they would have seen a girl sat in a desk chair with her one leg tucked into herself so that her knee was brought up to her chest whilst her other one was resting on top of a desk and she was reading to a plant. Or to Larry to be more precise.

As she got to the end of the page, she couldn't help but release a young yawn before shifting her eyes to the plant, "I hope you've been listening," she added on before flicking the page and beginning again.