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Thank you to the reviewers! Hope you enjoy this chapter. This fic will update every Monday :)




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


****

The day she awoke to find her glass-top coffee table shattered, Bonnie was more than a little pissed. She didn’t own a lot of nice things and that coffee-table was one of them.

It didn’t help that Derek’s muttered “Uhh I bumped it, it was right next to the futon,” was clearly a lie. Derek Hale was many things, but clumsiness and good lying were not among the moody werewolf’s qualities.

A few nights later she tossed and turned, trying to forget the unsaid goodbyes at Mystic Falls, the surprised confusion in Elena’s face when she told her she was leaving.

Tomorrow. I’ll call her tomorrow. Maybe.

She thought she heard noises in her living room where Derek’s tall form was sprawled on her futon.

Bonnie sat up, straining to listen. She caught the unmistakable sound of her old futon creaking  repeatedly, then muttered words.

It seemed she wasn’t the only with trouble falling asleep.

****

He was hunting for a cereal bowl when he spotted her out of the corner of his eye, glimpsing enough flesh in those few seconds than he had the entire week.

Derek swore under his breath. They’d established rules, dammit. Unspoken rules but rules nevertheless. And he was pretty damn certain those included no nudity in public space.

He waited to hear her retreating footsteps and was rewarded instead with soft floaty music.

“Umm, Derek, what are you doing?”

“I’m staring at this cupboard cos it’s just so pretty, what do you think?” he snapped,  “I’m waiting for you to go so I can turn around.”

“Go? I’m sorry if yoga gets your tail all twisted, but this is my apartment.”

Derek risked another glance to find that she wasn’t, in fact, naked, although she was pretty darn close. The shorts and cropped top were so miniscule as to be nonexistent.

Scowling, he grabbed the cereal box and stalked off to the patio, but not before glimpsing the lush outline of her lumbar curve as her arms extended in a graceful stretch. The early morning light slicked her in silver.

His eyes lingered against his will.

This wasn’t part of the plan. At all.

****

Bonnie was thirsty, possibly thirstier than she’d ever been in her entire life. And it was 3 am.

For the past week she’d managed to avoid the living room at night. The thought of seeing Derek asleep caused a fluttery nervousness in her belly. It seemed an intimacy somehow. Like the circles of protection her ancestors would trace in the earth, there were some lines you just didn’t cross.

She licked her lips.  It was no use, there was no way she’d fall asleep until she had a glass of water.

Bonnie crept out of the room as quietly as possible, tiptoeing across the almost non-existent hallway leading from her bedroom to the kitchen, wary of the wolf’s sharp hearing.

She managed to fill her glass without any commotion and was scurrying back when she heard it. Labored, distressed breathing. The futon creaking.

What...

She edged closer to the living room. Derek was moving restlessly in his sleep, and she could see his jaw clenching, his fists balled around the sheets. One arm lashed out violently, and she almost jumped back.
Bonnie thought of her coffee table, the glass cracked clean through. Werewolves heal instantaneously. Wounds close up, disappear, make you think they never happened.

He’s having nightmares.

She hurried back to her room. She wouldn’t know what to say if he awoke and saw her staring. Alphas didn’t respond well to their weaknesses being exposed.

But even after she crawled back under the covers, sleep proved difficult. The Derek Hale she’d known briefly as a kid was nothing like this brooding alpha he’d become, this orphaned wolf whose wounds closed up tight and swift.

It’s not like you’re the same person either, Bonnie.

Witches hid their wounds too.

***


Derek caught the layers of scent immediately, the blended odors infiltrating his senses through the hamburger helper he was indifferently cooking.

Bonnie entered his line of vision in a cream colored dress that skimmed her waist and flared attractively over her hips.

Had she always sauntered when she walked?

Fuck. Since when do I notice her walk?

The now familiar frustration needled him. He felt trapped, and every ounce of a wolf’s nature fought ferociously against it. Trapped in his head, trapped in this apartment, trapped by her constant nearness, the way she smelled, the way she nudged herself into his thoughts with far more frequency than he liked.

“Yo, wolf-man, the meat’s burning.”

He snapped back to attention to find that his supper was, indeed, charring.

“Shit!” he muttered, fiddling with the knobs.

Bonnie was beside him in a whisper of cotton and perfume, grabbing the spatula and muttering something about nothing getting done unless a witch does it and prying the half-burned hamburger helped from the pan-bottom.

She was so close he could count the chocolate shades in her hair. So close he could savor each distinct note of her perfume. Cinnamon. Oranges. And something else, something that made his nostrils flare and fists clench: the essence of her, the restrained hints of a scent that would only fully blossom in sweat. A scent that a lover could know.

I need to get a fucking grip.

It’s the perfume, he decided. All those scents soaked in her already far too enticing skin. Yup, definitely the perfume. It was somehow affecting his brain.

With a stifled growl Derek pushed away from the stove, and Bonnie.

“Forget it.  I’ll just get takeout.”

There was a sigh and a clatter as she put the spatula down. “Suit yourself.”

He shrugged on his well-worn leather jacket; the sooner he got away from Bonnie and her perfume and her irritating dress the better.
“Well, what do you think?”

Bonnie leaned gracefully against the counter, extending one slim leg and tossing back her hair.

Derek blinked, momentarily nonplussed, “Huh?”

Eyes rolled, “The dress, Derek. Well?”

“It’s...nice?” he offered impatiently.

“Nice?” she laughed, “I suppose that’s the Derek Hale version of a Hallmark card, but I’ll take it. Don’t you know this is why girls have guy friends? To give them honest, guy opinions about their clothes.”

Though her voice was light, her eyes danced in something like a challenge. His alpha blood stirred. “Oh is that what I am?”

Derek leaned back against the door, crossing his long legs at the ankle, “Fine, you want my opinion? Turn around.”

“What?”

He made a circular motion with his index finger. “Turn. Around. Let me see it.”

Bonnie hesitated for a moment before rotating slowly. He could hear her heartbeat speed up and tried to ignore the enticing pull on his own.

Derek let his eyes drink her in, the way he’d denied himself these past weeks. Her body was a whispered silhouette against the soft cotton, beautiful shoulder blades exposed by side-swept hair. There were yellow flowers on her dress and they struck him as strange and poignant. Both their lives were too raveled, surely, for the simplicity of small, yellow flowers.

When she faced him again the dusk-light hid in the hollow of her throat, fell carelessly across her arms. Her eyes tugged at him, unexpected and disorienting.

“Well?” she repeated, and he thought he detected a slight catch in her voice.

That her heart was racing he was certain of.


***

She was home early and Derek was still at training with the pack. Bonnie seized her chance and grabbed the pepper-spice. Following Maya’s instructions, she poured the pepper under the futon, carefully making the requisite crescent shape.

She liked protective spells. They made her feel powerful and full of purpose the way almost no other magic could. When the crescent glowed in response to her soft incantation she knew the spell was successful.

That night when she tiptoed to the kitchen, it wasn’t to fetch water. Sure enough, Derek was sleeping soundly, and she paused on her way back. He lay on his back with an arm flung behind his head, the other resting across his powerful torso as it rose and fell rhythmically.

Even alphas need rest.

Bonnie realized she was staring. Suddenly her neck was uncomfortably warm. She hurried back to her room and curled up under her covers.

And didn’t fall asleep.

****

 






Chapter End Notes:

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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.