𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 | ❝ There are so many threats happening all at once and no one trusts anyone. People are dying and we don't know why or how or who's going to be next. And we can't protect anyone if we can't trust each other. ❞
The supernatu...
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"I'm sorry," he whispered.
He pulled his head away and pressed his lips to my forehead. And after a few seconds, he moved his hands off of my face.
When I opened my eyes again, he was gone.
Two days had passed; the weekend was almost over.
I couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened Friday night. Derek became the Alpha and I told him I loved him. I didn't mean to say it out loud and it didn't change anything between us anyway, but I still said it.
"You're important to me."
That's what he said. I couldn't accept it. I couldn't take that because it's not the same as I'm in love you.
My brother and father are important to me and I love them. But it's a different kind of love.
And sure, I didn't tell Derek that I was in love with him but wasn't that a given? The way my heart ceremoniously shattered in my chest when he became the one thing I couldn't trust, the one thing I hate.
An Alpha.
I shuddered at the word and ran a hand through my blonde locks, tapping my fingers lightly against the skin of my laptop. The screen was bright and I couldn't focus on the words of the lecture powerpoint I was trying to take notes on.
"God dammit!"
I tossed my pen down on top of my desk and ran my hands through my hair in frustration. My eyes were hurting, my head was aching, and I was questioning if grad school was really worth all the hassle of homework.
"Sarah?"
I turned my head around to see my dad rapping his knuckles against the wooden panel that was my bedroom door. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and entered my room.
"Is everything okay?" he asked me gently, sitting next to me in the spare chair beside my desk.
I smiled at him softly and nodded my head, running my hands over my face. "Yeah, Daddy," I answered him quietly. "I'm just...I can't really seem to focus on my homework."
My dad sighed and put his hand on my shoulder. I looked over at him and he wore a weary expression on his face as he watched me.
After I opened up to my dad about what happened at school, he's been checking up on me a lot. I don't mind it—I even kind of missed it. I know how weird I'd been acting since I got home; constantly going on "jogs" through the woods and never just staying solitary at home for the day. I've been attacked in the video shop, thrown into a tree (although he thinks I was hit over the head), and so much other shit.
