After Dark: Derek Hale /DISCONTINUED/

3 - Part 1: Problematic Doodles?

The car ride was mostly silent, save for the rains pitter pattering against the glass of peters expensive looking car.

"So why did you move to beacon hills?" Peter asked, trying to break the awkward tension.

"We have family here," Viola replied, swirling little designs onto the window.

"I have family in Scotland but I don't plan on moving there," he joked, quite dryly if she might add.

"It's kind of personal."

"Sure." And he dropped the subject, just like that.

There was a pause.

"Peter," Derek said, his voice sounding oddly strained, "you should see newbies little doodles. They're quite good." He nodded his head towards the passenger seat window.

Peter glanced at it, uninterested, and then took a double take. He slammed on the brakes, making Viola's body jerk forward, almost hitting her head against the dashboard.

"What the hell?" Viola exclaimed, staring at peter with her eyes wide and her mouth agape.

"Where did you learn to draw those? School? Art classes? Someone teach you? Perhaps someone with eyes that change colour and retractable fan-"

"What Peter means is, how do you know what those are?"

Viola stared at the pair of Hales, dumbfounded.

"What the hell are you two talking about? It's just some swirls I drew, I don't know! Jesus. And why is Peter going on about claws now?" Viola huffed, slumping back into the seat, avoiding looking at her doodles.

"Derek, a word? Outside, maybe?" Peter asked, unbuckling his belt and slamming the door shut behind him.

Derek quickly followed, and Viola watched as they talked animatedly. Their demeanors were pretty serious, and she caught a few words. Something like "triskelion," and "vendetta" or something along those lines. They kept glancing at her like she was going to cause a freak explosion or something.

A few minutes later as Viola sat picking at the fringe of her sweater cuffs, the two hopped back in the car.

"We should have you home in no time," Peter chirped, gunning the car and speeding down the road.

Viola was home faster than she expected, probably because Peter was driving at a speed her father wouldn't have appreciated.

"Thanks, I guess," she mumbled, about to close the door behind her.

"Hey!" a voice belonging to Derek called.

Viola blinked.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

And with that, the strange Hales sped off, their taillights barely visible in the distance.

***

Viola sighed, dropping her bag next to their plush couch and flopping down onto it, switching the telly on. She grinned as her favourite TV show 21 jump street appeared on the screen.

God, she'd let young Johnny Depp arrest her without resistance any day. She could be submissive for him.

"Viola," her father called from the kitchen behind her. She could faintly hear him chopping something against a cutting board. She hoped tonight's dinner would be good.

"Yeah?" V called back.

"Your mother called earlier. She wants to talk to you."

"You know how I feel about talking to her, dad," Viola sighed.

"She's still your mom, Viola. You can't ignore her forever," he said. She heard the chopping stop and pictured him slumping against the countertop.

"I'm not ignoring her. I just don't have anything to say," she reasoned, quite stubbornly if she was being honest.

"Viola," her dad chastised, "she wants to talk to you because she misses you and you're being selfish. Call her."

"I'm being selfish?" Viola replied incredulously, whirling around to face her dad, her eyes as cold and sharp as daggers. "I'm not the one that left us because she was bored, Dad. She left me, us, for what she called a better life. She hasn't visited us once in three years, and now she thinks she suddenly can pull the mom card on me? I can't believe it," Viola shook her head.

"She loves you, Viola," her dad sighed.

"Real funny way of showing it," she mumbled, making her way to the stairs.

"Viola, come back here," her dad ordered.

"I have homework to do."

And with that, Viola made her way upstairs, shutting the door softly behind her.