GENESIS
[ BOOK FIVE ] COMPLETED
It's been seven years since Harper Verum had fought beside her pack in a supernatural battle, and three years since she'd last stepped foot in Beacon Hills.
However, when Scott McCall and Allison Argent send out invi...
( song of the chapter ) to be so lonely— harry styles
" it's hard for me to go home be so lonely. "
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Harper woke alone in her queen-sized bed. Everything was silent aside from the weather outside, the skies already showering the grey city with rain. It appeared that Manhattan didn't care that summer was just around the corner; it just wanted to make life harder for everyone that walked the bleak streets to go to their even-bleaker jobs. Usually, Harper didn't let it get her down, but today was different.
Last night had been no short of a disaster. Old feelings had been ripped open like a wound and it was ten times more painful than any time Harper had been shot or hurt by some supernatural creature. This was what real pain was; it was the kind that no amount of stitches or ibuprofen could ever fix. She was stuck like this; stuck in a constant state of loss and regret.
Calum had nothing to do with it. As far as Harper was concerned, he could literally jump in front of a bus and she wouldn't shed a tear. It sounded harsh, but it was true. The fact that she had wasted four valuable months with him when she could of been doing anything else filled her with so much rage. Calum knew he was going to hurt her in the end; he'd never truly cared about her or had good intentions.
Harper was stuck in love with Stiles Stilinski. The lanky sixteen-year-old boy had captured her heart nine years ago, and he hadn't given it back since, not even for a second. Any new friends she met told her it was strange for her to be so 'obsessed' with a high school boyfriend, but they didn't get it. They'd been together for six years; they'd been fucking engaged. Stiles was her person.
"It's been three years," the brunette rolled her eyes at herself, her voice barely a whisper in the morning air. "Get over him, Harper."
Why did he never call me again after we broke up?
Why did you never call him?
The same questions that had been rolling through her brain for years now came flooding back and Harper had enough. She forced herself to rip the covers off of her body and she stumbled out of the bed, instantly missing the warmth of her duvet and the comfort of her pillow. Wandering into her bathroom, she switched the light on and stared at herself in the mirror.
Her hair rested above her shoulders. Not because she liked it that way, but because she thought she looked more grown-up like that. The weight she'd lost wasn't because she needed or wanted to, it was because she overworked herself to the point where she forgot to eat. Harper hadn't picked up a paintbrush since switching to a psychology degree in college. She hadn't danced along to a The Neighbourhood song since she shared that shitty apartment with Stiles in California.
He was right when she said that she had changed the night they broke up, but it was what she thought she needed. No company would take her seriously if she smiled too much or if she liked her hair long and in messy beach waves. She stared at herself now. She was still trying to be someone she wasn't.
