𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍, derek hale ✓

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓

TROUBLE TROUBLE

A SERIES OF KNOCKS SOUNDED AGAINST THE FRONT DOOR IN AN ORDER EMERSON HAD MEMORIZED.

The sequence was always the same: three quick knocks, followed by two spaced out ones, and ending with two quick ones. The door would always unlock right after, followed by footsteps and clanking house keys.

Emerson was up in her room, sitting crisscrossed on her desk chair with her work sprawled before her, when she heard the noise. It was something she and the Prescott woman adopted into their routine, something used to alert whoever was home that it wasn't an intruder with a pair of keys.

The sequence meant safety, and given Emerson's lack of smell, the knocks helped settle her worries. She was sure they settled Hannah's, too, and that brought even more comfort to the blonde girl.

"I'm home!" the voice shouted up by the stairwell, raised like the woman had cupped her hands around her mouth for extra emphasis. "I brought dinner!"

Emerson's stomach gave a rumble, and she immediately let out of the pen she was holding and stood. Shoving her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants, she made her way out of her room and descended down the stairs.

Rounding into the kitchen, she was met with Hannah Prescott's back toward her, her hands working quickly to take out styrofoam containers from a plastic bag. "You don't need to yell, Han," she reminded the older woman with a laugh, coming right beside her to grab two plates from the cabinet near her head. "You could whisper and I'd still hear it."

Hannah waved her off. "So you've said, for the last three years," she quipped in return, following the girl to the table with the packaged takeout in hand. "You know I can't help it."

Emerson hummed in response, sitting down at the small table across from the woman. They began distributing food onto their respective plates, Emerson coughing up the extra chicken ball that always seemed to sneak its way into their order to Hannah.

"How was work?" she asked, picking up some broccoli on her fork and raising it to her mouth.

Hannah let out a sigh. "We had to apprehend someone from your school, if you could believe it," she said, shaking her head before she met the girl's stare head on. "You don't happen to know an Isaac Lahey, do you?"

The question was rhetorical, because Hannah knew that she began tutoring the lanky boy, but it nonetheless made Emerson's jaw slacken. "What?" she hollered, her fork dropping onto her plate. "For what?!"

She had just seen Isaac that afternoon— she had just told him to go home. What had happened in between then and now?

"You know I can't tell you," Hannah grimaced, and Emerson was on the verge of jumping out of her chair before the woman put her hand up, "but, what I can tell you is that it's not looking good for the kid, and considering tomorrow's date..."

Emerson's eyebrows furrowed, her eyes seeking out the little calendar posted up on the stainless steel fridge. Her blue eyes widened on their own as she spotted tomorrow's date circled in red marker.

The full moon was tomorrow, and Isaac was a freshly turned werewolf locked up in a holding cell.

"Shit."

.ೃ࿔*:⋆

The next few days to come were strange, especially with Isaac being on the run after his illucid prison break. Yeah, hadn't that been fun news to find out during her homeroom.

Emerson had been conflicted ever since she calmed Isaac down that afternoon in the utility room. Part of her knew she should've ushered him home herself, helped him out more because it was the right thing to do. The other part of her knew it really wasn't any of her concern, especially because he wasn't her beta.

No; the person responsible for his safety was that colossal prick Derek Hale, and he seemed to be doing a piss poor job.

Emerson just wanted some peace and quiet, but didn't necessarily want to be alone, so she opted to sit at her and Elizabeth's table at lunch that day. Thankfully, the Miller girl was exactly where she usually was, and happened to spot her coming from a mile away.

"Hey you," she greeted with a smile, watching as Emerson jerkily pulled out a chair and sat down in it. "Aren't you meant to be finalizing the roster with Brinley right now?"

The blonde groaned, her head all but dropping into her hands as she rubbed tiredly at her eyes. The night of the full moon always made her sleepier— grumpier. "Moved it to Monday," she grunted, opting to lean back in her chair. "I can't deal with people right now, much less Coach breathing down my neck."

Elizabeth snorted. "As long as you don't leave it till the last minute," she laughed quietly. "I already overheard Angie Laurence bragging about how she's getting the centre mid position... whatever that means."

The Avery girl levelled her friend a frown. "I'm the centre attacking mid."

"...oh."

Angie Laurence was a cocky, self-assured substitute midfielder. She always claimed she deserved the centre midfielder position more than Emerson, but their running paces spoke for themselves; Angie ran like a turtle compared to the teenage werewolf. 

The mere thought of her boasting about finally getting a starting position made Emerson's blood boil. "She's a damn idiot if she thinks Brinley will give her that spot over me," she half-snarled out, her mood infinitely worsening. "She'd have to pry the jersey off my back, dude."

Elizabeth raised her hands in defence. "Woah, easy there, Em," she soothed, her voice light and easy. "I may not understand soccer, like, at all, but I have seen you play. You have nothing to worry about, yeah?"

The stress of the Isaac situation, plus this new information she was getting from Elizabeth, was all starting to be a little too much for her. Her friends words were offering little comfort, the frown on her face only deepening as her gaze travelled across the cafeteria.

There Angie was, giggling away with some of the girls on their team, and like she knew Emerson was staring bullets into her skull, she locked eyes with her. The brunette across the room suddenly wore a smirk, and Emerson's lip curled back.

She wanted to rip her throat out.

But she couldn't do that, so the next best thing was to turn back to Elizabeth with a determined look on her face.

"I'm going to make her cry this season."

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆

[ wyn's note ]

wolf troubles and soccer troubles? this is gonna be a stress-fest for emerson, and she doesn't even know about the mf kanima yet bro

next chap is gonna be crazy... #sourwolf

all my love xo