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"Are you scared, Nikita Grace?"
Rich hazel eyes opened to the lush canopy of green, the black voids of her pupils shrinking upon morning's dim light.
Nikita had woken in the dirt, head resting on her right arm, body twisted on her stomach. For carrying such an elegant last name, Nikita was far from waking up gracefully. She lifted her head ever so slightly, taking in her surroundings with sleep fogged eyes, letting out a groan and dropping her head; defeated. She was back in the middle of the woods, having woken from that awful dream.
Her fingers curled over loose coins placed carefully in the palm of her hand, feeling the weight of them there. They were still cold in her grips. Nikita considered going back to sleep for a moment, if it wasn't so goddamn cold. Her knees drew up to her chest -a fetal position- in attempt to keep warm, but it was no use.
Nikita got up to her feet, the quarters tight in her grip, threatening to spill out between the cracks of her fingers. The last time she had woken in the woods she had awoken beneath Suicide Hill. This time she had awoken elsewhere within the woods. Judging by her surroundings she was far north. A narrow creek ran in front of her, the stream constant and flowing. Whoever had been planting quarters on Nikita had laid out a trail of them for her to follow.
Her fist shot in the air and shook, rattling the coins inside. "Thanks for these!" Nikita shouted out loud to whoever could be listening, surely someone must have been watching her. " I'll add these to my fucking collection!" -Indeed she was collecting these in her piggy bank.-
Not a sound was made, no answer from within in the wild woods.
"SHOW YOURSELF YOU COWARD!" Nikita's small frame shaking with untamed anger. She had no idea what she would do if a person were to reveal themselves. Charge at them? Chase after them with a stick? Give them a piece of her mind?'
Still no answer save for the birds that had taken flight, spooked by her shouting.
The morning mist was starting to dot her cheeks with condensation, Nikita's bare knees knocking together from the bitter cold. It was unwise of her to go to bed with only an oversized tee-shirt on, she should have known better by now.
Her fingers went to the back of her head, pushing through the knots and thick coarse hair to feel the roughness of her stitches. They had yet to dissolve like they were intended to, she was still in the process of healing. It could take another three full months to heal properly, and even then it would leave an unsightly looking scar. Nikita shook her head, she wasn't going to get answers standing here, and there was no way in hell she was going to follow a trail of quarters that lead even deeper into the woods. It seemed like a sure-as-shit way to meet an axe murderer, and Nikita's life didn't need any more excitement, she had enough trauma to last her a lifetime.
Her arms came to wrap around herself, providing the only warmth she could before gaining enough courage to find herself to be resolute enough to move forward and find her way back home.
Several hours later a white mini cooper had pulled into the driveway of the Argent home. Nikita sat in her car just before going in, attempting with a quiet desperation to wrestle the butterflies storming inside her stomach. Tonight was going to be her first date with Stiles, and she was so unbelievably excited. During the midst of chaos, loss of self, and constant detachment of reality she found Stiles to be her rock; her anchor. He had given her a reason to rise up and take on the day with a brave face, he was currently her only reason to smile; the only thing going right in her life.
It was true, the two of them were shy flirts, just barely skimming the surface of what their relationship could mean. Nikita had been so hesitant to get into a relationship with Stiles, especially after Jackson. To be frank, she was not in a good place mentally, and so terrified of entire thing was such a leap in the dark for her, even though she knew Stiles would be there to catch her. She had allowed herself this one good thing, taking her time to wade out in the warm waters of Stiles' affection. He had been so patient throughout it all, allowing her to come to him without feeling even an ounce of pressure.
And now she was smiling like an idiot just thinking of him.
Nikita lowered the car mirror to apply her sheer lip gloss over her berry colored lips. It was nothing but a clear gloss that made her lips feel warm and tingly. She smiled at her reflection, having finally perfected her winged liner, and feeling happy with the way she looked today. She had somehow managed to look put together despite all that she was going through, such a grand illusion.
It was then, through the reflection did she catch the most peculiar thing. Nikita watched in horror as a half naked man dangled from the second story window of the home across from Allison's. Her mossy eyes grew in size when the partially naked man let go of the window ledge and landed in the bushes below. Nikita's hand came to cover her gaping mouth, she had recognized the sandy haired gentleman.
It was Alex Vincent Jones.
An older woman with only a black bra on poked her head out the window from which he fell and hastily threw his clothes down at him, Nikita sunk in her seat muttering every curse word known to man repeatedly, hoping she wouldn't get caught watching, but proceeded viewing the oddity from her rearview mirror. Alex, who was only in his boxers, got up with his clothes in hand, brushing off his shoulder. He looked up at the window in time to see an exceedingly furious man screaming at him, most likely the woman's husband. The man swore he was going to grab his gun and put a crater in Alex's pretty face, Alex responded with only a chuckle, and carried on down the street as if nothing had happened. Like it were a casual saturday for him.
"What the actual fuck?" Nikita mouthed, sitting up straight when he was out of her sight. From the picture that was painted only seconds ago he must have been fooling around with a married woman and got caught doing it.
'Disgusting. Who does that?" Nikita thought to herself as she unbuckled her seatbelt and made her way up the door. It was wild thinking of truly different the brothers were in personality, one had the sweetest kindest disposition, and the other was as bitter as the cigarettes he smoked.
All thoughts of Alex ceased to exist from where she stood, in front of the Argent Home. Her hand hovered over the door, fingers curled to a fist, ready to knock. However she remembered the last time she had visited Allison, it was her aunt who had opened the door. Nikita felt hesitant and silly at once, hoping it wasn't leatherface Gerard Argent on the other side. She knocked anyways.
To her utter lack of surprise it was Gerard Argent who had opened the door. Nikita was beginning to think it was best for her to start texting Allison to come outside instead of going in. His dark dull eyes lit up and a smile pulled the sag of his skin tightly.
"Nikita, my darling, please come inside." Gerard with that always artificial retail worker voice of his. His eyes narrowed past her shoulder to catch the commotion of the cheating wife and angry husband coming from outside.
'I'm nobody's darling, old man." She wanted to say, but decided it was best if she just held her tongue, not wanting to initiate any sort of conversation.
Instead she gave him a forced but gracious smile, stepping into the foyer of the home. Nikita wanted to make a beeline for the stairs that headed straight to Allison's room, but Gerard had intercepted with a liver-spotted hand on her shoulder. Every muscles in her body stiffened and her skin screamed at his touch. Gerard recoiled his hand upon her distinct and precise reaction.
"I just wanted to make sure you're alright, Nikita."
She thinks to herself that his eyes are dark and beady, much like a shark, his smile just like one too.
"Especially with that poor head of yours." Gerard adds.
Nikita's fingers instinctively go to the back of her head, the stitches are still there. She already knows she won't ever truly heal, the puckered skin sending icy chills down her spine.
"Have you begun to remember anything , Nikita?" Gerard approaches Nikita, coming closer, she goes up a step, hands wrapped around the stair bannister. " What you're experiencing is acute amnesia. But there are possibilities that during recovery you can regain memory. Have you had any rare glimpses into the night of Winter formal? Anything at all?"
In front of him Gerard saw a weak girl, thinking he could crack her shell open if he kept up his incessant and abrasive tendencies. Play the nice guy to gain her trust, hold her under the high beams and interrogate her until she confessed to something. In reality Nikita couldn't remember anything after her and Jackson exchanged words in the woods, it went blank after that. She was left scratching at a bolted door in the recesses of her mind, hoping that the door would open, would answer her questions.
Those soulless eyes land on her necklace and at once she tucks it into her shirt, forcing him to look upon her gaze rather than the jewelry hanging off her neck. Nikita had remembered how Kate inspected it with the same curiosity, holding it in her filthy fingers as if she had the right to even touch it. Kate was the firestarter, the arsonist who had eviscerated the Hale's without mercy. Gerard must have known what Nikita's necklace was about, much like Kate had. Was he staring at it because he felt some sort of guilt?
"Why did Kate go after the Hale family?" Nikita came down from her step, leveling with Gerard so she could watch the muscles of his face sag when his smile shattered. She took pleasure in knowing she did that, she took his smile away. Gerard should have known better, if he were going to drill Nikita with intrusive questions, he should have been prepared to be barraged by her own. And now judging by his facial expression and the vein throbbing at the side of his head, it looked like here were in need of a laxative suppository.
Nikita's right hand gripped around one of the bannister bars, welded of iron. It was cold in her hand, the dull edges uncomfortable, the thin skin paling white over her knuckles.
"Why them? What personal connections did she have to th-"
"-My daughter was sick." Gerard's voice quiet and shaking with anger, his words sounding like a repetitive mantra he probably used to answer the authorities.
"Your daughter was a murderer! And the poetic justice of her demise couldn't be sweeter!" Just like that the iron bannister snapped in her firm grip and crashed into the marble floor with a loud 'twang.'
Nikita was trembling all over with anger, her eyes wide for she can't believe the words that had come out of her mouth. It's like she had blacked out for a moment, her vision tunneling while her mouth kept running, slinging out venom to land upon Gerard Argent; her Principal. If they were at school right now she would surely be facing expulsion. Expulsion didn't scare Nikita, she had faced much scarier and unexplainable things in a short amount of time. She hoped he'd expel her, and expel her out of this stupid town, so she could go back to her real home in Los Angeles.
Gerard was left gobsmacked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on deck, searching for some kind of retort, some way to de escalate things. Allison must have heard everything, for she came running down the stairs at bullet speed, linking arms with Nikita and wordlessly dragging her out of there.
"We should go!" Allison having to let go of her grip on Nikita even when they were on the driveway. "Don't let him upset you."
She appreciated Allison trying to calm her down, but Nikita was already riled up. She would have to calm herself and push out all negative thoughts if she wanted tonight to go perfectly.
-Stiles' POV-
With his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, Stiles jiggled the key in the lock "Almost..."
Allison, Scott, Nikita and Lydia stood behind him waiting all let out a sigh as they heard a successful click.
Flood lights turned on one by one, revealing a magnificent and empty ice rink. It was completely untouched, pristine, and they would be the first to use it. Nikita couldn't help but to let out an excited squeal, for they had the entire place all to themselves.
He and Scott walked behind a counter to grab ice skates for Alison and Nikita. Lydia obviously had already brought hers along, finding rental skates to be disgusting.
"So what did it take for you to get the keys to this place?" Scott giving Stiles one of his crooked grins.
Stiles was looking along rows of skates for Nikita's size, trying to find ones that didn't have dull blades. "My goddamn soul and whatever was left of my pride and dignity." Stiles muttered under his breath, coming across the perfect skates. "Boyd was one tough bargain."
Finally, he found the perfect ice skates, and grabbed them by the laces. He sees Allison and Nikita sitting on a bench, taking selfies together, and laughing amongst each other, while Lydia was tightening her laces. Both Stiles and Scott take a moment to admire the girls they've come here with. It was silently agreed upon that they both enjoyed when the girls got along, their laughters intermingling. Stiles was already thinking of all the future double dates they were going to have.
He looks over to Scott who has a pleasant smile on his face while still watching Allison.. "Look, I know you think I should be putting space between Nikita and I. I can't do it, it's impossible Scott."
Scott let's out a sigh and looks to his best friend with something akin to sorrow, his deep dark eyes swirling with empathy and a warmth that only Scott McCall could possess. "You really like her, huh?"
Stiles simply nods. "More than anything."
"You're my best friend Stiles, and I would never do anything to hold you back from the things that make you happy. Dude, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll support you. Whether you decide to pursue your relationship with Nikita or not." Scott's hand coming to clap onto Stiles' shoulder.
They walk back to the girls, Scott and Allison go off to a separate bench to put on their skates. Stiles gets on his knees before a seated Nikita, helping her put on her skates. His hand holds her right ankle up. She smiles upon him, that dimple of hers that he love so much comes out to play.
"Are you excited?" Stiles inquiring, while gently sliding her foot into the skate, making sure the ankle straps didn't pinch at her skin.
Nikita shrugged, causing her soft grey sweater to slouch off her left shoulder. The simple act and the sight of her skin so simple and inexplicably alluring to Stiles.
"Are you kidding? I haven't skated since I was a kid!"
Yet he could see the excitement flickering behind those beautiful mossy eyes. "Oh c'mon, you're the most athletic girl I know."
"For someone so coordinated, i'm probably the most clumsy person I know."
" Have you seen me attempt to function on a day to day basis?" Stiles chortled.
"Have you seen me in heels? Same thing. Both death traps invented by men." Nikita knocking her skates together.
"Hey it means you can quickly glide away from me if you're not feeling this date." Stiles smiled at her, hoping their night would never come to that. Although there may be need to skate the hell away from Lydia -who had invited herself to the double date-.
She studies him for a moment, long lashes fanning over her lively eyes. "I have to say, you're doing a great job so far."
"I have to say, you're my favorite date so far." Stiles relishing in the coy way she looks at him.
Nikita lets out a snort. "Don't lie Stilinski, i'm the only date you've ever had."
"Touché." Stiles retorts, god damn did Nikita have a sharp tongue, just the way he liked her.
Stiles was careful to lace both skates up tightly. He could tell Nikita thought it was so adorable with how much thought and attention he paid to her safety. It was nice sometimes, to know you were being taken care of, and Stiles made sure she knew that. He believed in the little things rather than the big romantic gestures, those were the things that truly mattered.
Their attention garnered by Allison on the ice, beckoning Scott to join her.
The both of them had let out a loud "ooooooooh" when Scott stepped onto the ice only to fall on his back. Across from that was Lydia, landing triple axels like she were a Winter Olympics Gold Medalist.
Stiles looks to a nervous Nikita. "Alright, it's our turn to get out there!"
-Nikita's POV-
Once it came time to actually use the skates, Nikita felt her confidence falter. Stiles took the ice first. She watched him with a sweet smile on her face as he effortlessly glided across the sea of white. Stiles was enjoying the attention she was giving him, making him feel important and special. He was absolutely beaming. Nikita had laughed at Scott earlier when he fell to his butt, but now she was nervous of the same thing happening to her in front of Stiles. She wanted so badly to impress Stiles, to look good in front of him.
"Come on!" Stiles called to her from the centre of the rink. He glided a little closer, taking his hands out of his pockets to hold out for Nikita, wanting her to take it. "I know you can do it!"
How could Nikita say no to him? Nikita did as he asked and slid out to join him. And immediately regretted it. Nikita felt her ankles wobble as her skates slid on the ice, throwing her balance off. But Stiles, steadfast and surprisingly athletic, shot forward to catch her. Nikita felt his warm arms come around her, frightened, and out of instinct, her nails came to sharply dig into his arm, protected by the sleeve of his red hoodie. She was a frightened cat, all claws and panic.
Nikita glanced up at Stiles with her doe eyes, his arms around her, keeping her upright, good to his promise. She was wearing the same grin as Stiles.
"You have to relax. I won't let you go. I promise."
Nikita nodded, her breath catching in her throat. Her legs wobbled like that of a newborn fawn who had only just learned to stand. Nikita forced herself to relax. One by one she uncoiled the tense muscles in her body, her back, her shoulder, her jaw, her calves, even uncurling her toes.
She was okay with Stiles. Stiles wouldn't let her fall.
"You're doing fine!" Stiles as encouraging as ever, speaking into her hair, still holding onto her.
"I'm going to need you to trust me, ok?" He added.
Trust.
He was asking for trust. It seemed so simple. She did trust him and yet she felt prickles of fear prodding at her heart, and raising the hairs on the back of her neck. It was hard for her to eradicate fears of being lied to and placing trust in others with all the secrets floating around lately. But that was her damn Principal,Scott and Derek. She couldn't trust was Stiles. She liked him. She liked Stiles so much.
Nikita had promised to allow herself to just indulge and enjoy this night. There was no room for fears and mistrust, not here, not tonight. So she nodded her head and let Stiles take her hand.
"Good," he said. "Now, close your eyes."
And she did. Her eyelids coming to meet together.
The warmth of Stiles' fingers spread through her gloves, Nikita loving how this simply felt electric. She could hear nothing but the sound of her friends laughing, the soft glide of skates on ice and the occasional thump as Scott fell here and there. Nikita let out a surprised gasp as an icy chill blew past her. Her knees still felt weak, her legs unsteady, but with Stiles' holding her she could still keep her eyes shut without wanting to open them. She was trusting him, putting herself literally in his hands. Stiles gently squeezed her fingers, only the slightest to let her know that he was still there.
Fingers of crisp air gently raked through her warm coffee colored hair and nipped at the top of her rosy cheeks. Her worried expression soon dissolving into a giddy smile.
"Alright, open your eyes." Stiles finally granting her permission.
Nikita opened her eyes and gasped with such delight as she found herself gliding smoothly on the slick ice, Stiles' hand the only thing guiding her across the rink. Nikita threw her head back with a childlike giggle. Lately she had been in drought of happiness, drifting through life aimlessly and hopelessly. And now she was feeling a bout of laughter bubbling from within her, thanks to Stiles.
"I'm doing it! Stiles, look. I'm really skating!" Nikita's cheeks starting to hurt from the cold and her large grin.
And she was ice skating! Stiles' was only directing her, pulling her along the ice as he skated backwards. His hand gave her the confidence she needed. Her infectious laughter rang out as Scott and Allison watched from the other side, cheering for their friend. They hadn't seen Nikita this carefree in so long and it was impossible not to join in.
Although there were three others on the ice rink, Nikita felt like it was just the two of them, just her and Stiles while the rest of the world was shut away. She looked into Stiles' warm brown eyes, losing herself within them. How she longed to pull him to her and bury her face in his neck. Breathe him in and, just for a few seconds, let herself be. Just be a girl in the arms of a boy she cared for.
She could see herself, her own image reflected back at her in Stiles' eyes, catching a glimpse of her very own smile. A smile of genuine true happiness, an image she hoped she would never forget. For she was feeling brighter than the sun, filled with warmth from head to toe. For a moment all the world's problems had dissolved, the weight of pressure rolling off her moment, everything about it felt so perfect.
Nikita looked at the boy in front of her, and wondered if he felt the same. She hoped he did. Was this euphoria what other people would call love?
Stiles' smile faltered just the slightest, bringing Nikita back to reality and out of her love lust haze. She realized that she had been staring, peering deeply into his eyes as if she were searching for the vastness of his soul. And now Nikita was feeling terribly embarrassed for staring so foolishly. She was surprised to find that they were both still moving, gliding slowly across the ice. Except this time he wasn't holding her hands, in fact Nikita wasn't holding onto anything now.
"Oh my god! Stiles!" Nikita exclaimed, her mouth dropping wide. Stiles had essentially taken off her training wheels. She was skating all by herself.
"You see?" Stiles sounding so smug and proud at the same time. "I told you, you could do it!"
Nikita excitedly looked around to see if the others were watching her, Allison and Scott were cuddled on the bleachers, holding each other close. Lydia, was on the other end of the bleachers, never looking up from her cell phone.
Stiles was skating circles around her gleefully. "Alright, Nikita. Now that you have the basics down. How about a little game?" His little smirk exciting Nikita like no other.
"What do you have in mind, Stilinski?" Her words were choppy for she was still watching her feet, already getting a hang of it.
"You're the fastest person in school, perhaps the county."
"Mmmhmm." Nikita shamelessly agreeing, she was damn good. "I'm glad you recognize my talents. What is this game you speak of? Please enlighten me."
Stiles came to a stop behind her and playfully rested his chin on her shoulder "Simple, you catch me. And you get to kiss these lips." And with that he skated off, leaving Nikita flabbergasted.
His newfound confidence came as a shock to her, but that's what they did to one another, inspired confidence within and challenge each other at every turn, that's what had kept her so enticed. With a jolt of adrenaline pulsing through her, Nikita set off across the ice, sloppy, but fast; zeroing in on Stiles.
Stiles wanted her.
He wanted to taste her lips but the universe must have had a different idea for how this was going to end. Nikita skidded, suddenly thrown off balance as her skates caught in an imperfection upon the ice. She instinctively moved to catch herself, her hands fisted in Stiles' sweater. They had both spun around so suddenly, next thing Nikita knew, her back and head rammed into the plexiglass walls, Stiles colliding into her.
Stiles couldn't help but to laugh rambunctiously, finding humor in the situation. He was nearly pressed up against her.
Nikita however was less impressed. The back of her head, protected by a thin layer of her black beanie, hit the rink wall. She winced a little and Stiles immediately noticed, he was now concerned. His hand came to rub the back of her head, careful not to press too hard in case he hurt her more. He was so careful with her that Nikita forgot to feel concerned as his fingers passed over where her stitches were. Stitches that she was so terribly embarrassed of.
"Your poor head, it's been through so much!" He said with a subtle smile and a hint of amusement.
Nikita let her head fall back, resting it on the wall behind her and laughed, her smile so wide that her eyes were squinted upon her high cheekbones. "Yeah. It seems to be a common occurrence with me."
"Think we should get you a special helmet, shouldn't we?" Stiles jokingly knocking the side of her head with his knuckles. He placed his hands on her hips, a very daring move. He did it to keep her balanced and safe, but the moment Stiles realized where his hands were he couldn't help but to blush.
Nikita seized the opportunity at once. She curled her finger around his belt loop, pulling him closer to her on his skates. Their faces were now mere inches apart.
Nikita said, "I think I deserve my prize. I did win, didn't I?"
Stiles' brains was going haywire with how close in proximity he was to her. This close to her he could feel the body heat fanning off of her, he could pick up the gorgeous scent of her perfume, it filled his head. The feel of her hands, her body pressing eagerly into his. The sight of her soulful eyes, looking both innocent and seductive. Nikita didn't even know what she did to him, not really, her seduction was accidental, which made her so much more alluring. Those large eyes were the color of spanish moss, and sometimes darker than wet earth. At once brown and green, ever changing and multichromatic.
Her eyes were so complex, stunning, and honest, much like the rest of Nikita. She was looking at him like he were the only person on earth, the only person who mattered to her. It made him feel so important, made him feel so strong. The most intense feeling of protection came over Stiles, he wanted to protect her so badly from the cruelties of the world. Take her somewhere safe, take her away from this town, take her somewhere where it would just be the two of them.
Stiles neared her, their lips coming even closer, she looked to him with such want and anticipation. The last and only time he had kissed her was the night of Winter Formal.
"I've been wanting to do this," he said "for such a long time."
Her breath hitched in her throat as Stiles dared to close the gap between them, his lips just barely brushing over hers. She had been looking forward to this moment for so long, so so long.
And then...it was cold.
A wave of wet shredded ice hit the two of them, prompting them to scream out in surprise. They both turned to the side to see Lydia standing there with her arms crossed, looking far from impressed by the pair of them. She had very deliberately sped towards the pair while they were distracted, proceeding to slide to a sideways stop thus showering both Nikita and Stiles with a spray of snowy ice shavings kicked up by her skates.
"I'm cold," she declared, staring at Stiles with a small pout. Ignoring Nikita entirely. "Mind getting me a sweater?"
"Why, Lydia? Why." Nikita exhaled as she linked arms with her redheaded friend. They were alone on the ice now, Scott and Allison in a photobooth. Stiles was off somewhere in the bleachers fishing reluctantly for a sweater in his backpack.
Lydia didn't seem to mind interrupting Nikita and Stiles' moment."Because, as your best friend, I think you can do better."
Nikita rolled her eyes. "You're dating Jackson, if you could even call it that. You don't get much of an opinion, Lydia."
"And you dated him as well. Let's admit it, we don't know how to pick good ones." Her friend pulled her arm away from Nikita to fold it over his chest.
Her response, leaving Nikita slackjaw "Believe it or not, I like him...A lot. And he's nothing like the rest, okay? Stiles is good."
The two stopped in the middle of the ice rink, for half a heartbeat there was nothing but silence as they stood side by side.
Lydia wrung her fingers, her anxious behavior rubbing off on Nikita. "Niki, I let you down as a friend."
Nikita blew out a puff of air, her chestnut curl rising and falling. "I don't want to talk about this again, Lydia. Alright? We patched our bridge and now we're over it."
"I just want to look after you!" Lydia pleaded " make sure you don't fall to the bottom of the Social Pyramid!"
Nikita could care less for a social pyramid, She'd already suffered a greater fall, and there were far more concerning matters in her life at the moment.. The conversation so absurd, Nikita couldn't help but to burst out in losing balance, and falling onto the ice with a thud. This only caused her to laugh harder.
Lydia however, was not laughing. In fact she was caught in a daze, so deeply gone she couldn't hear even hear Nikita calling her name. Her bright eyes transfixed to the floor like she was brainwashed. Nikita's eyes remained focused on her friend who was now skating away from her
"Lydia?" Nikita's soft voice calling out to her
The expression she wore, devoid of any emotion, like an invisible force beckoning her.
Nikita was seated on her knees, gloved hands flat on the ice. It was a mistake on her part to look down when she did so. A slow flickering from beneath the matte thick ice catching her eye. Nikita rubbed her eyes and stared at the ice, waiting to see if it would happen again.
Nothing happened.
Perhaps it was just a trick of the eye, a moving shadow. But again, there was a flicker. Her eyes narrowed on the ice, studying it. To her disbelief there was a shadowy figure trapped beneath her. Nikita leaned down to look closer, her warm breath just barely clearing the matte surface of the ice.
Her always curious nature took over, she needed to know what was beneath.
Gloved hands wiped away at the surface furiously. But the frost remained, veiling whatever was underneath the ice. With her teeth she peeled off her gloves, and used the warmth of her hands to wipe away the frost. Her fingers aching and dull from the cold ice, even stinging, but she kept going.
Even when Lydia's scream pierced the air, she kept going, completely unaware. She wanted this, she needed this, she needed to know. It was like a scab, and she couldn't stop picking at it, much like the sutures at the back of her head. Nothing could stop Nikita.
Nothing, except for what she saw once the frost cleared.
Trapped underneath the ice was a girl with wavy brown hair. She wore a beautiful powder pink dress, a silver heart necklace around her neck, and a corsage tied to her wrist.
Nikita's eyes widened as the dress slowly became drenched in blood. The necklace she wore,it was the exact same as Nikita's A scream ripped out from Nikita's throat, so loud it left her throat raw.
She saw herself beneath the ice.
"NO!" Nikita's shrill scream bounced off the walls.
Her nails dug into the ice, scratching at the surface, in a pathetic attempt to dig the girl out from the ice. The bitter cold, biting at her fingertips. She didn't even notice Stiles grabbing her, trying to pull her away. The girl underneath was convulsing, writhing, coughing up copious amounts of blood. The taste of acidic bile loomed in the back of Nikita's throat, the sight so gruesome it left a tight knot in the pit of her stomach. Nikita was aggressively trying to claw away at the ice, like a rabid animal. The dull pain and tear under her nails didn't stop her, as a few of her nails loosened.
Nikita's own crimson blood, sullying the pristine ice.
She was screaming incoherent words, sobbing and sputtering out a sea of 'no's'. Stiles was shouting her name, finding any possible attempt to get through to her. Allison was tending to Lydia who still had not stopped screaming in hysterics. Both girls having snapped at the same time.
The blood shot eyes underneath opened, staring straight into Nikita's soul,it was like looking in the mirror.
The screaming stopped as Nikita looked at herself below the ice. A sudden sharp silence daggering through Nikita, her ears ringing sharply. A harrowing pain pulsated in the back of her head that had left her quivering like a leaf. Any strength left in her body gave out, as her body collapsed into Stiles. He caught her, refusing to let her slump onto the ground. Her eyes squeezed shut. And then she saw it.
Random sequences of images played in her head. Her running barefoot in the rain, bushes of brambles tearing at her pink winter formal dress. The animal like creature that had cornered her so terrible it must have been from her darkest nightmares. The beast trying to tear her open with its razor like claws.
Nikita ripped off her beanie, her fingers going to the back of her head to feel the stitches. Except they weren't there, they had dissolved. The puckered skin was no more, it had smoothened out, not even a scar leaving a mark. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat. Realization was a bundle of bricks dragging her to the deepest depths of the ocean. She was sinking, further and further into her mind.
The night of her accident wasn't an accident.
It was an attack.
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