❝I like you. ❞
❝Was that supposed to be a joke?❞
. . • ☆ . ° .• -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-°:. *₊ ° .
The evil that rested beneath Beacon Hills never truly went away. Following the death of a loved one, Madison Argent planned to finish her freshman year and gain c...
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I. THE BEGINNING
Madison Argent awoke to the sound of hushed voices. Her hair had drifted in her eyes as she slept, resulting in a huff of annoyance. Her eyes gently adjusted to the bright light seeping out of her window as she wriggled out of her duvet, bringing her feet to the floor.
The fifteen year old girl quickly scanned her bedroom. Her clothes for the first day of freshman year were laid neatly against she desk chair, but Madison had scraped the idea of attending classes that day.
She glanced at her clock, which was stacked against her bedside table, and sighed. It was nearing 1pm already, and she felt as if her bed was much too comfortable to leave it.
Her bed was her favorite place to be in all of Derek's apartment, and she planned on staying there, as she had just not wanted to put up with the outside world today.
Madison walked to her desk, slipping out of her pajamas and changing into a sweatshirt and navy sweatpants.
She rested against the wall of her bedroom for a moment, taking her surroundings in. The room was much too bland for her liking, the wall a plain grey and the furniture a porcelain white. This didn't bother her much, and she definitely was not going to complain after Derek Hale had so kindly let her crash there for the last couple of months.
Following the death of her dear sister Allison Argent, Christopher Argent and Isaac Lahey had left to France. Not wanting to leave her home or pack behind, Derek had opted for her to stay in an old guest bedroom of his.
They pair had grown quite close, the Sour Wolf finding a warm spot in his heart for the fifteen year old.
Said fifteen year old had currently tied her tangled hair into a ponytail, her fluffy socks pattering against the stairwell of Derek Hale's apartment. She yanked her sweatshirt down her thighs, her head poking around the corner to see three people in a private discussion.
A woman who looked to be the same age as Derek, sat on a chair, her dark brown hair cascading down her back in light waves. She quickly recognized the figure to be Braeden.
Madison watched as the woman scribbled a number down on a piece of paper, before sliding the material against the table to face the Hale men. Peter's brow furrowed as he frowned. He opened his mouth to speak, no doubt it was a sarcastic response- but the Argent girl had cut him off, her curiosity getting the best of her yet again.
"What's going on?" Madison asked, as Derek turned towards the voice. He brought his bottom lip between his teeth and shook his head.
