Alone • Liam Dunbar

Twenty-Two

Realizing what I was about to do, I immediately slid off of Liam. I drop from the couch as a result, landing roughly on the hardwood floor. I clench my jaw to swallow a groan as pain shoots through my body, not wanting to embarrass myself further in front of the wolf who had been under me. 

Liam curses and swiftly rises from the sofa. He holds his hands out as an invitation to help me up, one that I promptly ignore. I stand on my own, settling for glaring at him 

"The hell were you doing?" I all but growl at him. My instincts told me to default to anger. It would be easier than facing the fact that he saw me in a vulnerable state. 

"You were the one about to punch me, shouldn't I be asking that?" Liam retorts incredulously. His own annoyance falters when my glare intensifies. He sighs, reluctantly giving in. 

"I came down to check on you because I couldn't sleep. I saw you were crying and figured it was a nightmare so I tried to wake you up, but when I touched you, you grabbed me," he explains. 

Liam touching my body made it response with reactive hostility as my mind was under attack. Kate had actually done me a favor tonight by tearing into my side. The pain that shot through me from pinning Liam down forced me out of my slumber, and saved me from delivering any blows I wouldn't have been able to take back. 

My frustration quickly shifts to shame at the thought of hurting Liam. 

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" I ask him. He shakes his head, letting out a slight chuckle. 

"Only my pride. I didn't know you were that strong," he jokes. 

I force myself to laugh along with him, not wanting to let things get more awkward than they already were. I clear my throat afterward, wishing this moment would end and I could salvage whatever shred of dignity I had left. 

One of the perks of living alone was that no one had to see me at my worst. When I woke from a nightmare, whether it was a past memory or an entirely new hellscape, I didn't have anyone question why I came out of it screaming or on the verge of sobbing. I could simply let the images fade and lay in my bed until I eventually felt like I could function again. 

"You should go back to bed," I suggest to Liam dismissively. 

He doesn't move, though, only watches me with obvious concern. 

"Do you wanna talk about what you saw?" he asks softly. 

"No thanks," I scoff wryly. 

Liam remains still and crosses his arms with a determined expression. He wasn't going to let this go, that much I could tell. 

"How about we finish our conversation from before?" he presses. 

My eyes drift past him to the staircase. I was worried that perhaps Scott might be eavesdropping from only a floor away. I had also fallen asleep before I could see if Stiles came back, so there was a chance both boys were upstairs listening to me embarrass myself.

I could already picture Stiles army crawling down the hall to the top of the stairs to listen, his human hearing compelling him to make a fool of himself. Scott would then try to follow him to make him go back to the room, and it would end with the two idiots tumbling down the stairs together right into the middle of my pity party. The thought made me visibly recoil because even though it didn't happen, it was a heavily plausible possibility.

Liam notices my tension and gaze, and puts it together. 

"They're asleep," he assures me. 

Admittedly, that did ease my mind, but that didn't make the idea of all of this any easier.