β derek hale | teen wolf

[epistemic]

	✔ Cʀᴏssᴏᴠᴇʀs/AU ✔ Aᴄᴛɪᴏɴsᴘᴀᴍ ✔ Pʀᴏsᴇ	✔ Pɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs ✔ Oᴛʜᴇʀᴡᴏʀᴅʟʏ ✔ Sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀs	♥ F/M ⏰ Uᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ

Comments

you said any people SO

[forgetyourusedtobe]

[lurings]

[clippedalock]

[When Christina clawed her way from her coffin, through the six feet of earth that separated her tomb and life-giving air, the first thought that came to her was that she couldn't stay here. There was nothing left here for her, she'd killed it all, and she knew that, and even Peter's words that he didn't hate her couldn't change that. It was important, but it didn't change things.

The most important thing was the first glimpse of herself in a bathroom mirror, how her long, unruly hair was the same brown that it had been for most of her fourteen years. Not quite dishwater, but an equally unimpressive shade. The most important thing was that it wasn't white, like bones and death. Her hair was brown and that meant that maybe, maybe she could have another chance. If she could get away from here, there might be hope for... something. She didn't know what, but she hoped anyway.

She ended up in California as if drawn by a string. It was hard, keeping the beast quiet. She could feel its teeth in her throat as the full moon that had thrown her back into life ticked toward the next, and she was so very aware of how easy it would be to strip off her skin and glut herself on the fat of the helpless bodies around her. To feast on their fear on her tongue as they screamed-- But she didn't. She didn't, like she was trying to prove a point, prove something even if no one was listening.

Beacon Hills was a strange enough place to make her stop, catch her feet and her bearings and breathe. There were other wolves here, being one of the first things that she noticed. It took her a while to work up the courage to approach someone. For a while she just watched, waited on the edges, trying to figure out what she would say. She's a shadow running if she seemed liable to get caught. There was still the wolf in her blood, and she didn't leave tracks, moved as silently as the death she'd once caused, but her scent was more girl and less rage than it had been before. That was good, right? It meant something.

She'd told Peter once that she wasn't shy, she just chose her words carefully. In honesty, it was a bit of both. Maybe Derek isn't the best person to approach, but Scott's exuberance is intimidating. She doesn't understand people that can be that warm, be friends with everyone. Even Alyssa and Alexa, maybe the most popular girls at Hemlock Grove High School were bitter vipers under their popularity, and Christina knew that better than most. She's small, unassuming, a waif of a girl with skinned knees and dark eyes as she slips into view, hands fidgeting.]

Uh, hi. I mean, hello.

[She feels like she should wave, or smile, something friendly- normal- but she can't quite manage it and instead her head tilts as she looks up at him. She has a notepad clutched to her chest and she fidgits as she tries to stand in place. There are words, and she wants to talk, say too much, but she bites her tongue and tries to give him space to acknowledge her first.]

i am super srs here.

[splinted]

come on punk, let's dance

[175]

i feel like apologizing a little. (and yet)

[fothermucker]