"I was a heavy heart to carry, my beloved was weighed down.
My arms around his neck, my fingers laced a crown
I was a heavy heart to carry, but he never let me down.
When he held me in his arms, my feet never touched the ground.
I'm so heavy, heavy in your arms."
Heavy in Your Arms- Florence & The Machine
An Alpha once told me that my life would've inspired Poe. His writing hand would've itched insistently, begging for the tales of my bloodlust and sin. Too long I had wandered aimlessly as a hound from hell; my eyes growing darker with each drop of blood I spilled. My response to him was to rip his throat out.
Six years I have served my sentence as a nightly beast. Six years I've run away from everything that used to remind me of home. Six years of relentless solitude and I was finally done. Washing his blood from my hands; I set his pack free and ran from that responsibility. I believed in the philosophy that if I ran far enough, then my troubles would fall behind. Perhaps they would live, perhaps they would die but that wasn't my problem now. My problem lay with the dull ache in my chest.
Home was calling. HE was calling. Our bond was constricting my lungs, squeezing the very air from my body. The distance didn't shorten the pain, it just made it harder for me to make my way back to him. It was his mark on my shoulder, his branding of my animalistic soul and I wanted to hate him for it. Saving me had been his only motivation, loving him had been mine.
The motorbike stood naked and alone, it's rider abandoning the death machine for a different view. Her figure stood prominently confident upon the edge of the cliff overlooking Beacon Hills. She had remembered a time when her world had seemed so big, so curious and unrelenting with her dreams. This town was too small now, too shadowed and dying.
Day and night she had ridden, pushing herself closer to her only nightmare and true fantasy. Listening to her chest at every mile, she found it's beat growing stronger. It's sympathy calling to his melody and Alex prayed to God that he would let her hold on to that heaven.
Her breath came out in short bursts, tiny puffs of smoke leaving a trail behind. She tried clenching her fists tighter, holding onto those memories harder; she needed him, needed him like she needed to breathe. Did he still smile? And when he did, did his blue eyes sparkle like they used to? Would he welcome her back in his arms? Or would he exile her?
Taking one more birds eye look at her old home, Alex headed back to her bike. There really was only one way to find out and that was to go home. Go back to the one place that wanted to end her life and back to the one person that had wanted to give her a new one.
Rain began to fall, pelting her helmet as she sped towards the quiet town. Trails intermixed with the unmistakable wet dog smell, leading her forward. Tilting her head up she tried to sniff out any familiar scents; the weather was making it difficult for her to pinpoint anything specific. Revving her bike, she spun dangerously through the mountain roads. The chance that she had missed Derek, had her heart on the verge of screaming.
Growling to herself, Alex realized she hadn't exactly thought her plans through. What if she did find Derek? What made her think he wanted anything to do with her now? Sure, her heart had been on the edge of breaking for six years now, but that didn't mean that he had felt the same way. Parking haphazardly in front of the only motel in town, she shoved herself off her bike and stalked to the front door. God, what if he had met someone else? It would take all the restraint in the world to stop her from killing something if that was the case.
The chiming of the bell signaled to the old man behind the desk. Sucking in a sharp breath, Alex attempted to adjust her eyes to the artificial light. "Need a room?"
How anyone survived on this planet asking stupid questions was beyond her, "Obviously."
Two minutes and a signature later, the key to room 25 was tossed her way. Her belongings were kept in one backpack, making it easier for her to travel from place to place. It was just another object in life that reminded her of the lonely lifestyle she had been living.
Throwing herself upon the old mattress, she finally let herself relax. The tired bedsprings melded to her body creating a perfect cradle to sleep within. If she concentrated hard enough, she could get her enhanced senses to ignore the lingering scents of mildew and sex.
Tomorrow would prove the challenge. She had gotten herself her; through much inner turmoil of course. The rain would delay, leaving the ground renewed and old tracks would vanish. Tomorrow would be the day of judgment. Tomorrow she would find Derek Hale.
