❛my reputation's never been worse so, he must like me for me❜
⫍𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘯 '𝘷𝘢𝘭 '𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘯 was born to fulfill the legacy of her coven: to be the strongest witch alive. after a tragedy, she finds herself in beacons hills, discovering the de...
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⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼○•∙chapter five ☪︎
❛truth comes out.❜
Val slumped against the bookshelf in the library, aimlessly flipping the beige pages. Bored to tears, she slammed the book shut and leaned her head back. Maybe I should just leave early, she proposed to herself. Nobody would even notice that she was gone. Her time would be better spent reading the grimoires at her house.
Buzz. Val sighed before digging around her bag to pull out her phone. Unknown number daunted the screen.
She brought the phone to her ear. "Who is this?"
The sound of shuffling and muffled voices rang behind him. "Val. It's Deaton. I need a favor.
The girl frowned. "I won't ask how you got my number, but what is it?" She tapped her feet against the carpet. "I don't have anything else to do."
"It may compromise your. . . condition," he said, leaving little room for interpretation.
"Okay? Are there other people there? Is it about the animals?" Her intrigue compelled her to know more. Deaton already knew she was a witch, and if other supernaturals were there, she honestly didn't care too much if they figured out. The sound of a certain teenage boy arguing with someone else in the back made her lean forward. "Is that Scott?"
Deaton pulled away from the phone for a second before his voice came through again. "Yes. If you come here, I can explain more."
⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼
Disregarding the rest of her day, Val immediately drove to the animal clinic. Pushing the glass door open, she made her way to the examination room. Her entrance was greeted by shocked looks on four boys' faces, all standing behind Deaton. She held up a limp wrist carrying the phone. "You guys were expecting me. . . right?" she asked, standing awkwardly by the doorway, the feeling of discomfort coating her body. The gaping mouth from the half-naked soaking wet boy, the stoic older guy, and the eternally awkward presence of Scott and Stiles, made her feel like she had interrupted something.
Deaton was unfazed. "Thank you for coming. I believe you've met Scott and Stiles," he extended an arm their way. Scott gave his usual boyish smirk, his eyes still wide. Stiles gave a casual wave and tried to lean against the wall before stumbling over his feet, making him trip into the cabinet, sending supplies cascading down into the floor accompanied by the clang of metal. He sprang to his feet, giving the girl a soldier's salute, making her break out into a smile. "This is Issac." He motioned to the shirtless boy dripping in water who gave her a small smile. "And Derek." The dark-haired man just gave a curt head nod.
