Being a politician's daughter in Washington always came with unspoken rules and regulations. There were invisible standards which had to be adhered to, barriers that couldn't be pushed, eyes watched her every movement. Lydia hated Washington, except that she didn't. But she did. It was complicated because it was the life she knew. She didn't want it, the life she had, but it was hers. It was impossible to put into words how her life made her feel.

As a child Lydia watched an unhappy marriage stay together for the sake of two careers, and as a teenager she resented her parents because their jobs came first. When she was seventeen with ambitions of escape from Washington to the West Coast her world fell apart when her father announced his intention to run for President.

He won, of course, and Lydia's life changed dramatically. She was eighteen when he took office and suddenly her every move was watched by the nation. Lydia's dreams faded with the sunset. Her relationships were scrutinised; her grades were more important than ever and her choice of clothes was discussed on breakfast television.

It was obvious to Lydia what she should and shouldn't do. Drinking whilst underage, for example, was not allowed, and the latest fashion trends should always be followed. And under no circumstance was it ever acceptable to fuck the secret service detail assigned to protect her.

Lydia couldn't give a toss about rules right now though, because broad shoulders held her thighs apart, two fingers screwed into her asshole, and his tongue was, oh fuck, doing things that made Lydia's cunt burn with need.

'Derek!' She gasped. Her eyes were wet with tears and her toes ached from being curled. 'Please.'

He hummed, and she grasped handfuls of the sheet bunched around her hips. Carefully he brought her to the edge but they just hovered there, a delicate balancing act that Derek held expertly. Lydia didn't know how long it took for that rush through her body that made her arch up and push his head away. He chased her, licking until she asked him to stop.

His cheeks and chin were glistening, her juices clung to his beard, but he was smiling as he stretched over her body and kissed her. 'Hey,' he nuzzled her lips.

'Hi,' Lydia cupped her hand around the back of his neck and kissed him.

'How's that headache you've been complaining of?' He asked.

'Gone,' Lydia kissed him again. His cock was still hard against her thigh, and she spread her legs further, wrapping them around him.

'You don't have to-'

'I want to baby,' Lydia smiled up at him. Derek snorted at being called "baby" but it turned into a soft grunt as she wrapped her fingers around him gently. Derek reached to the bedside locker for a rubber.

Lydia didn't think she could come again, but Derek buried his face in her neck and she felt a tingle in her clit as he eased inside her. He adjusted his position slightly and Lydia gasped as he grazed her g-spot.

It was slow, intimate. Lydia had no idea how, but Derek teased another orgasm from her exhausted body. She dragged her nails down his back and cried into his shoulder, sucking on the skin. Derek jerked into her a few times before filling the condom with a soft noise that made her tingle inside.

Derek cleaned up, and Lydia curled herself against his chest once he dropped back onto the bed. In the warm afterglow of sex they lay and listened to the wind outside the window. Lydia played with Derek's chest hair while his fingers drew shapes on her hip.

'You've been shot,' Lydia whispered. Derek's right shoulder held two bullet scars. There was one on his right thigh too.

'My last tour,' he said. Lydia kissed the scars, both the marks on his shoulder and the one on his leg. Derek chuckled and curled his arms around her.

'What was it like? Fighting there I mean,' Lydia asked.

'There were moments when it was hell on earth but when I saw why we were there, kids with guns, the oppressed beaten into the earth it was... War is no good for anyone. It is hell on earth,' Derek turned to meet her eyes. 'I've never spoke about it before to anyone.'

Lydia kissed his lips. 'You know you don't have to speak of it. If I push the boundaries just tell me to stop.'

'You don't understand, I want to talk to you about everything,' Derek said. 'Someday.'

'I want to listen always,' Lydia rested her cheek on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady. It soothed her to sleep.

Lydia spoke to both her parents every day.

Her father would call her, and God help her but Lydia had a reluctant interest in politics and policy that she liked to deny. Sometimes he would ask her odd questions or fish for her opinion on his decisions. At first it confused her, but soon she was ready for his call and sometimes she would bring an issue up he had left out. Notes were taken. Politics was becoming a part of her life without her realising it.

Every morning Lydia would send her mother a brief description of her day which included classes, work load, social events and planned outfits. Sometimes, if Lydia expressed what she considered to be an "extremist" view she would warn her parents but lately she had come to rely on Derek and his opinions instead.

'Do you like this skirt?' Lydia asked as she smoothed it down in front of the mirror.

'I suppose,' Derek grunted. He gulped the last of his tea and put the mug into the dishwasher. She was watching him in the mirror as he holstered the gun he always carried and put his comms device in his ear. His eyes were on her though.

'You're looking at my legs,' Lydia said. She did a full turn in front of him.

'There's a lot to see,' Derek said.

'What is that supposed to mean?' Lydia snapped. Derek met her gaze and rested both hands on the breakfast bar. Lydia couldn't help but admire how it made his shoulders look.

'It means I like the skirt,' he sighed with a slight curl of the lips. Lydia grinned at him.

'I only have two days of classes left then we break for Christmas,' Lydia said. 'What's your schedule?'

'I'm working,' Derek said. He pulled his cell phone from the inside pocket of his jacket.

'All Christmas!' Lydia turned to him.

'I thought you'd be happy,' Derek muttered. He was texting someone. He smiled, and a moment later showed her a picture of a scruffy dog. 'My sister just adopted her.'

'Cute. I am happy but your sister will miss you,' Lydia lifted her bag. 'Daddy's going to reduce the military's budget to increase education next year.'

'And?' Derek asked. He was testing her, she thought, wanting her opinion. Or maybe he was just curious.

'I don't think he should. I think the military is important,' Lydia looked in the mirror and fixed her hair. 'What if we go to war?'

'It's all a balancing act as far as I'm concerned. One year they reduce one budget and increase another, the next year they readjust the allowances. It's a form of crowd pleasing. I thought you didn't like politics?' Derek said as Lydia turned to him with a smile.

'I don't,' she raised to her toes and kissed his lips.

Derek made a point of wiping the gloss away from his lips. 'Banshee is ready to leave,' he said into his coms device.

'I hate that,' Lydia grumbled.

'They won't miss me at Christmas, Laura has a family and Cora has a new husband and a new dog,' Derek said as he helped Lydia with her coat.

'We're going to Colorado for Christmas,' she said as she lifted her hair from inside her coat.

'I know,' Derek smirked and Lydia felt herself blush.

Every room in the ski lodge had a Christmas tree, even the bathrooms had the little gel ones clinging to the mirrors. Lydia didn't mind, she liked it. Derek didn't either by the looks of things.

No one seemed to notice that Derek didn't use the room he'd been given in the guest wing, or if they did, they didn't say anything. Derek was the only protection detail Lydia had here too, not counting the secret service there for her father. No one questioned the time they spent together.

On Christmas Eve Lydia and her parents prepared a meal and they ate in private. After they sat quietly by the big log fire and read, but Lydia had made her way to her bedroom before nine. Derek was reading on her bed and she snuggled into his side. Derek took care to mark his place before he set the book down and turned to her. The kiss was slow, tender, and Lydia wished she had spent the whole evening with him. Christmas was tedious with her parents.

'When I have a family I want a big noisy Christmas, I want fun and games not quiet time to read!' Lydia complained.

'Christmas is always noisy at our house,' Derek said. 'Quiet time is something unheard of.'

'Do you miss it?' Lydia asked.

'Yes but...' He stopped and ducked to kiss her and his hand drifted to the hem of her dress. Lydia wrapped her arms around his neck. 'Let's celebrate Christmas Lydia.'

Later, when Derek was asleep, she slipped from the bed and placed his Christmas gift underneath the tree. She left his birthday gift next to the bed. Lydia wondered if Derek would be angry that she discovered his birthday. He wasn't, he just chuckled and kissed her and pulled her back into the warmth of the bed.

Lydia was a delicious enigma that Derek found hard to resist. She was also full of surprises.

She had flirted with him for months, teased him and toyed. Derek had offered her faint smiles but tended to ignore her behaviour.

It was a false alarm one evening that had him on her sofa, a few prank phone calls came from some of her high school class threatening kidnap. 'Don't leave,' Lydia pleaded. Her hands were shaking and instinctively he wrapped his arms around her.

They talked for hours, and behind the fashionable and sharp exterior was a sweet and lonely girl who was a lot smarter than she let on.

It wasn't long before one thing led to another, a touch here or a glance there and Derek ended up in bed with Lydia one Sunday afternoon.

Lydia wasn't what he expected though, this confident and brash girl changed completely in the bedroom. At first he took her shyness and submissive behaviour to be nerves. They were new to this after all, but the more time they spent together the more Derek realised Lydia liked to be taken care of.

'May I?' She had whispered. It was their third time together and her hand hovered over his cock.

'You may,' Derek had teased. She wasn't a virgin, she had told Derek there were two boyfriends she had slept with, but Derek didn't push her, he let her take her time with his body.

After sex she was clingy too, she loved to cuddle and hated to break contact. Derek, a tactile person himself, made sure to hold her, whisper nonsense to her and in return listen to her. He would stroke her hair and watch her long after she fell asleep.

He learned about how much she thought she hated politics, and that as "First Daughter" the men who would chase her and try to court her to gain her father's favour. Married men approached her offering up some fun to try and gain favour like some medieval court.

Derek grew to hate social gatherings at the White House where people openly flirted. Lydia would smile at them, even dance if they asked her to, but her eyes always found his. Derek vowed to end it on those nights, Lydia was part of a world he didn't belong to. He was overstepping the mark and putting Lydia in danger.

'Derek,' Lydia said as she approached him. 'It's time to leave, I'm tired.'

They would move, Derek would escort her from the car to her apartment, and to his Boyd and Erica's amusement, he would stay another night with her.

'I don't think you hate politics as much as you think you do,' Derek said. Lydia looked up at him, he was wearing jeans and a Henley and he looked so young and relaxed out of the suit.

'What makes you think that?' Lydia asked. Derek turned and set her food in front of her. It smelled delicious and Lydia couldn't wait to tuck in.

'You want to make a difference, you want to make changes, real good changes,' Derek took a seat across from her.

'It's not that I hate politics, just, it's more interesting now than it was. I want a family and a happy marriage, sometimes that doesn't seem possible in a political world. I don't want to marry the wrong person for the wrong reasons,' Lydia twisted the spaghetti around her fork.

'You could have a happy family,' Derek shrugged.

'I could be President, Madam President.' Lydia imagined herself in the Oval Office. 'You'd be first husband?'

'I'd be your kept man,' Derek grinned.

'Stay at home Daddy bringing up our kids,' Lydia wondered what their children would look like. 'I'd like three.'

'Three is a nice number,' Derek agreed.

'It wouldn't be easy; a female President with a young family.' Lydia thumbed the groove in her fork.

'You could do it. You were born to lead,' Derek's smile was soft. It was then that Lydia realised how much she loved the man sitting in her kitchen, the man who had just painted a wonderful future with her.

'I want to do it, I want to be President!' Lydia said.

'Really?' Derek asked.

Lydia hummed but a plan was formulating in her mind. It wouldn't be easy, in fact it would be one of the most stressful things in the world but Lydia was confident that she could make a difference.

'Lydia?' Derek broke through her thoughts.

'Yes?' She said.

'Eat your food,' he smiled softly again. Lydia smiled back. She wanted to tell him how she felt but now wasn't the time. It was too soon, too complicated, and perhaps a little part of her just wasn't ready.

Lydia was curled up on Derek's lap when her cell phone rang. They were settled in to a big armchair with a blanket around them. Lydia was wearing one of Derek's hoodies and she had to fish around in the pocket for the phone.

'It's my Dad,' she said. Derek paused Pretty Little Liars whilst Lydia answered.

'Where are you?' Her dad asked over the phone.

'At home,' Lydia said. 'Why what's wrong?'

'Have you seen the weather, do you even watch it?' Her dad asked.

'Of course I watch it, I need to know what outfit to wear every day don't I?' There were a few sniggers on the other end of the phone. Apparently she was addressing a room. 'You wouldn't be laughing if a newspaper article said "Presidents idiot daughter wears mini skirt and high heels in freezing conditions" would you?'

Derek snorted but the sniggering had stopped on the other end of the line. She shot Derek a glare.

'I'm just a concerned father honey,' her dad said.

'I know. Derek's sister works at a weather station in California. He warned me about this a week ago. His words were "you're not going out next weekend. Bad weather. Logistical nightmare," so I'm here,' Lydia ignored the look Derek gave her for impersonating him but there was laughter on the other end of the phone.

'Who's on duty?' Her dad asked.

'Derek,' Lydia said.

'Well bring him in out of the cold hallway, I've been told we have visual of the front of your building via camera,' her dad said.

'Sure, now go do what you do,' Lydia said. They said their goodbyes and she ended the call. 'Daddy says I should warm you up.'

'I believe he said to bring me inside,' Derek teased.

'What do you do on your days off when I don't see you?' Lydia asked.

'Laundry. I go to the gym, do stuff around my apartment, and catch up with friends. Normal boring stuff.' Derek shrugged.

'You're off all next weekend,' Lydia pouted.

'That's next weekend, not this one. My sisters are coming to Washington. They've never been here before,' Derek said.

'Oh?' Lydia pouted.

'Yeah they get here late Friday. I'll spend the day with them on Saturday then its home for them on Sunday,' Derek frowned. 'Why?'

'No reason, just wanted to know,' Lydia mused. 'You rarely talk about your family. I don't even know what they look like. You only ever showed me a picture of Cora's dog.'

It was with a heavy sigh that Derek produced his cell phone. He showed her pictures of his family, his mother Talia and her wife Melissa, his stepbrother Scott and two sisters Laura and Cora. Cora's husband Stiles was there too.

'Your sisters are beautiful,' Lydia said.

Derek made a face, but Lydia kissed him. 'I like it here,' Derek said softly.

'I'm glad, now, there's a storm coming and I want to watch. Move this armchair to the window please babe,' Lydia stood. Derek didn't complain, he just moved the chair like she told him to and sat back down, waiting for her to join him.

'So what's she like?' Cora asked leaning closer to Derek. Laura paused, her drink halfway to her mouth.

'Who?' Derek said.

'The President's daughter,' Laura said.

Derek shot them a glare. 'It's Lydia, and remember we're in a bar and we don't know who could be listening.'

'No one's listening, they're all watching that stupid fight!' Laura said.

'She's pleasant. Smart...funny in a way I didn't think she would be,' Derek caught the tip of his tongue between his teeth. He hoped he'd said enough but not too much. His sisters could usually see right through him.

'She looks like a snob,' Cora said. Derek grinned, Cora wouldn't say something like that if she thought there was anything going on between Derek and Lydia.

'She's alright,' Derek muttered turning his attention back to the fight on the television.

Derek said goodbye to his sisters and left the bar when he felt his mind tingle with that pleasant almost-drunk feeling. The cool night air sobered him slightly but not enough to remove that comfortable buzz. He enjoyed the walk to his apartment, and after a few fumbled attempts with the key he was inside.

The scent hit him immediately. Her perfume hung in the air and Derek followed it like a drug. She was on his bed wearing heels, stockings and his leather jacket over it. Derek swallowed when she blinked up at him.

'Where's your security?' Derek asked as he stepped closer to his bed. His bed, where Lydia was waiting for him. He could get used to this.

'Boyd helped me,' Lydia smirked. The bedside lamp cast a soft glow over her beautiful body and Derek couldn't wait to unwrap her. He kicked his boots of and dragged his t-shirt over his head. 'You look hot in jeans.'

'You look hot in my jacket,' Derek muttered as he crawled over the top of her. White teeth bit into a plump red lip, and Derek ducked his head to kiss her. Lydia opened up immediately, her hands went to the waistband of his jeans then followed the line of his belt.

'May I?' She whispered. Derek kissed her throat, let his teeth scrape gently on the sensitive skin.

'Yeah,' he muttered into her throat. Lydia took her time, but her fingers were sure as she worked the belt through the buckle. She dragged it off him and clutched the soft leather in her hands. 'You could use it.'

'How?' Lydia asked looking up.

'You could wrap it around my wrists,' Derek pecked her lips. Lydia's breath was sweet when it touched his skin, like she'd been eating cotton candy. 'Would you like that?'

'Yes but...I'm afraid,' Lydia looked into his eyes and Derek felt a rush of fierce protectiveness and something else. He wanted to say the words but he wasn't ready. Not yet.

'Its okay baby, we don't have to,' Derek kissed her lips again.

'Maybe someday, maybe,' Lydia swallowed and Derek kissed her again. He took his time, kissing down her throat, over her chest. He peeled his jacket from her to reveal lace and satin barely covering her beautiful pale skin.

'You're something else,' he murmured against her tummy. Lydia giggled and ran her fingers through his thick hair. Derek set his teeth against her skin and nipped a small patch. Lydia gasped and arched against him as Derek soothed her with his tongue before moving to her mouth to kiss again.

'You taste like whiskey,' Lydia said when Derek pulled away. He cupped the side of her face and marvelled at the soft skin.

'I'm sort of drunk,' Derek admitted flipping them. Lydia laughed as she settled on his hips and rested her hands on his shoulders.

'Are you?' She leaned down and kissed him. Derek encouraged her to move over him, guided her in taking some control. The stripped each other, baring skin and kissing away the day until it was just the two of them beneath Derek's dark duvet.

Lydia moved above him, her hair fell in a curtain around his face. They were alone, this was their place. The world drifted away as Lydia shared his breath. She rode him gently, their hips rocking together again and again. Derek could stay like that with her forever, her soft body against his slick skin, and her gentle noises like music filling the room.

Lydia came first, a sob on her lips as she tried to kiss him. Derek held her, one hand on her hip twisting them again. It was only a couple of thrusts until he came, and Lydia cried out with him.

Derek tucked Lydia against him and they fell asleep to the beat of the rain against his window.

'You were in the Marines?' Lydia asked. Derek came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

'Yeah, joined when I was eighteen,' Derek said. Lydia looked over the pictures on the wall, pictures of Derek and his unit posing at the end of a successful mission. 'It was a tradition, those pictures, a way of recording who came back.'

'Is that a wedding ring?' Lydia asked focusing on the last one she came across. Derek was silent, and Lydia turned to him.

'It was a mistake. Jennifer was in love with someone else; I was in a bad place. We both just...got it wrong. We rushed into something. We married in Vegas after knowing each other a few days. It was sex that was all that bonded us. I was deployed a few weeks after we married and we never had time to make it work. By the time I got home it was over. Jennifer's ex was back in her life although she wasn't cheating and I'd lost my best friend. We divorced and that was that.' Derek looked at the picture. 'We're still friends.'

'Oh,' Lydia didn't know how to react. Her most serious relationship had been with Jackson Whitmore; a spoilt teenager who treated Lydia like dirt. He'd been her first everything and sometimes she regretted that.

'Hey, this isn't going to turn awkward is it?' Derek said as he pulled her against him. Lydia caught sight of them in the mirror. She was wearing one of his oversized black t-shirts, he was in his boxers. Lydia wanted mornings like this, eating breakfast in her underwear, planning out their days and weeks together, dreaming.

'No, it's not awkward. You're just old!' Lydia pushed his shoulder.

'I'm twenty nine!' Derek protested lifting her from her feet and holding her against him. Lydia wrapped her legs around his waist.

'You're old,' Lydia's words were soft. Derek narrowed his eyes but Lydia kissed him, running her hands around the back of his neck. It was one of Derek's weak points and Lydia knew it. Derek groaned softly and walked them towards the comfortable sofa.

'We should go out for cocktails!' Allison clapped. Derek's shoulders tensed slightly.

'We're out for coffee,' Lydia pointed out. Allison made a face. They were at the back of a cosy coffee shop and Derek was standing guard a few feet away from the alcove they sat in.

'I'd rather have a drink of something else,' Allison sat back. Her eyes drifted to Derek.

Lydia turned to Allison's sketches. 'I like this one, what colour?'

'Hmm? Oh teal, or something dark. What shoes will you wear?' Allison scooted closer.

'I'll decide when I see the dress,' Lydia said. The coffee was hot when she took a sip but she ignored the burn.

'Surely we can go out,' Allison rested her chin on the heel of her hand. 'Ask him, and while you're at it find out if he's single.' Allison nodded towards Derek.

'Derek,' Lydia said. Boyd took Derek's spot and then Derek was crouching next to her chair. He stole a piece of her muffin.

'That's good,' he said picking another piece.

'Can we go out tonight?' Lydia asked.

'No can do ladies, there isn't enough notice for us to prepare,' Derek said softly. 'And don't forget you're underage.'

'Not fair,' Allison said.

Derek shrugged his shoulders. A warm hand wrapped around Lydia's ankle under the table. 'I'm not even close to sorry on this one. Going out is a nightmare for us. I can organise to have cocktail ingredients sent over to your apartment.'

'That could be fun,' Lydia said. Allison made a face.

'And I'm not, by the way,' Derek said as he stood.

'Not what?' Lydia asked.

'Single,' Derek said with a smile. 'I have a girlfriend.'

Somehow Lydia suppressed her smile and returned her attention to her best friend. 'Blue would be nice,' Allison was saying as she examined Lydia closely. 'It would go with his eyes.'

Derek hated shopping.

Always precise, and to the point, Derek usually got what he needed when he needed it. He knew which brands he liked, knew his size and rarely strayed from that path. Shopping to Derek was a quick stop at a shop on the way to do other chores or the touch of a button when he ordered online after a brief search.

He shopped alone too; last time he had company he was seventeen and it was Paige, his first girlfriend. They had almost broken up that day in the mall (they did a week later) and Derek had shopped alone ever since.

It was a Tuesday morning when Lydia announced she needed shoes. Derek stared down at her with folded arms as she explained this need to him.

'If you don't get these shoes will you die?' Derek asked after she stopped describing the colour she needed to go with the dress Allison was making.

'Possibly,' Lydia said.

Derek was intent on standing his ground. Shopping was a security risk because it was the most boring thing Derek could imagine. He actually would rather supervise paint drying over shopping with Lydia. But it was Lydia, with those doe eyes and pouting lips. Lydia, who right now was falling to her knees and God help him she was licking her lips and touching his denim clad crotch. Her fingers were nimble opening his belt and popping the buttons on his jeans.

Normally Lydia indicated she wanted sex, she would ask him or start making out with him. She had never initiated anything like this. His half hard cock looked good in her dainty hands as she pulled him from his shorts.

'Please, baby please,' she whined before licking the tip of his dick. Derek dropped his hands and balled them into fists at his sides. She sucked him gently, taking more into her mouth with every movement of her head. It was slow, maddening, and Derek's toes curled in his boots as somehow she swallowed down to the root.

'Fuck,' he grunted as she cupped his balls in her hand.

Lydia pulled back and took a deep breath. One hand worked his shaft while she licked and sucked the rest of him but he almost came undone when she took her mouth away, lifted his dick and sucked his left ball into her mouth.

'Lydia I'm going to-'

'Only if you take me shopping,' Lydia said as she tightened her hand around the base.

'Anything, baby just please...' He groaned deep in his chest when Lydia sucked the tip again. That was all Derek needed before he was tugging her hair. She wouldn't budge though and he shot into her mouth.

'Good?' She asked as Derek caught his breath. Her lips were swollen and tears clung to her long lashes and Derek realised he was caught in her trap. Derek didn't answer, he just fell to the floor and dragged her over his face. With his thumb he held her panties to one side while he ate her cunt.

Later, as Lydia tried on her ninth pair of shoes, Derek didn't complain. He found he enjoyed watching Lydia shop, it made her happy and a happy Lydia led to a content Derek.

'Miss Martin you look fantastic,' the reporter said. Lights flashed around them but Lydia had grown used to this charade.

'Why thank you, this was handmade by a darling friend of mine who attends fashion school in Paris,' Lydia smoothed her dress. Allison had done a fantastic job with it and the colour was unique. Lydia loved it. The reporter raised her eyebrows expectantly and Lydia let a little teeth show.

Lydia's parents were just in front of her and Derek was at her back. He was uneasy, his eyes scanned the crowds of people around them. More than once he'd placed a hand on her back, a brief touch but that of a bodyguard not a lover.

'Wow, that's some good connections,' the reporter said. 'Is it true you've decided to follow your family into politics?'

'That's correct. As clichéd as it is to say it, I do want to make a difference. My father gets immense satisfaction from his job, although the fresh grey hairs don't always show it. I want that, I want to help people in the best way I can. I believe I owe it to my country to at least try,' Lydia smiled.

'Well if you're dressed like that you'll certainly get noticed,' the reporter said.

Lydia pasted a fake smile onto her face. The political journalists at the event congregated around her father and his staff and Lydia knew not to chase their attentions just yet. She was new to this game and more than happy to wait for politics to come to her. She would be making a mark soon enough.

'Lydia, darling come over here!' The President called. Lydia joined him, and Derek's hand brushed hers. 'I was just telling Emmett that you're considering a career in politics,' her father turned to her.

Lydia opened her mouth to speak but it all happened so fast. Suddenly she and her father were on the ground, and something heavy was crushing her. Blood covered her chest and hands. There was screaming and shouting, but Lydia knew it wasn't coming from her.

Someone moved the weight, her father was dragged away. Lydia was lifted next, and she looked into a face that didn't belong to Derek. 'Boyd where is Derek?' She muttered as he hoisted her higher.

There was noise; people ran every way they could and Lydia couldn't make sense of what was going on. The motorcade belonging to her father sped off and Lydia was being taken towards cars which had brought her. She twisted in Boyd's grip to look around but she couldn't see Derek anywhere. People pushed past them, Boyd stood his ground like a solid anchor and they were at the car in no time. That's when she spotted Derek.

His white shirt was Crimson with blood, and he lay on his back where she had been just moments ago. He wasn't moving, blood pooled around his body like molten lava.

'Derek!' She screamed pushing against Boyd but it was no use. He had her in the back seat, his body covering hers. The car pulled away and Lydia felt tears burn her eyes. 'Is Derek alive?' Lydia asked. Derek's blood, she realised, covered her hands. They shook as she examined how the sticky red caught in her skin.

The car was silent save for the engine.

'Please, someone answer me. Is Derek alive?' Lydia asked again.

But no one answered, because no one knew.