Georgie
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Instinctively her grip tightened further onto the sharp knife in her hand and she squared her body in front of his. His eyes were wild, looking around the room before they settled back onto her own. He remained silent as she probed him, her feet lifting from the ground and moving closer towards him. "Derek. I asked you, what the- fuck- are you doing- here?"
She watched him as he edged backwards closer towards the stairs that he had bolstered up moments before.
"What is this?"
She took a deep breath and released her grip of the craft knife, the point miraculously finding it's way into the wooden floor and standing up right. "I asked you a question. A question should be answered with a relative answer, not met with another unrelated question." Closing her eyes, slowly she turned away from him. She felt like she was talking to a child. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard you scream and I thought you were in trouble." She rolled her eyes as they opened and she self-consciously made her way to the shredded fabric now laying on the ground.
"That explains what you're doing here inside my Studio. What I want to know is what you're doing here, at my studio in the first place. And don't give me any werewolf bullshit because we both know that you wouldn't be here if you had heard me scream from that god-awful home of yours." Bending down she gathered the pieces into her arms, they lay haphazardly over her forearms. "So that means that you were here or relatively near. My guess is that you don't run to every screaming person in your vicinity, so that brings us to the original question. What are you doing here?"
"I came to-" Derek's hands lay languid, flush against the sides of his body, then rose, his fingers twining together as the rested atop his head. He watched as she barely managed to gather all the torn fabric, strands drooping across her arms and end's of painted canvas dragged next to her bare feet.
The soft padding of Georgie's footfalls echoed around the silent room as she turned her back casually towards Derek, making her way to the large moss colored plastic bin, hidden under one of the rudimentary shelving units. "Mhmm?" The skin at the bridge of her nose crinkled as her eyebrows knotted together. She grew frustrated as several pieces fell from her grip and landed on the floor soundlessly.
"To-" The heel of Derek's boot clacked against the hardwood floor as he stepped further back, Georgie turned her gaze towards him. His grey orbs still searching around the room pressingly. She could tell he had no excuse, at least, not one that he would willingly volunteer without compromising the stupid façade he wore. Closer to the edge of the staircase, his heel balanced on the ledge of the first drop, "to check on you."
Shock washed across her face fleetingly before she scoffed at him, she didn't need checking up on. She returned to shuffling across the room towards the crate of waste, dumping the remains of canvas inside unceremoniously. She was independent and she could protect herself, she always had protected herself. Just because she was now wrapped up in some alternate reality where supernatural monsters existed- didn't mean that she couldn't take care of herself. Her eyes glanced to her bag sitting on the ground in the corner of the room, a loaded gun sat inside, the bullet shells incasing a small dose of wolfsbane. She considered walking over and taking it out, threatening Derek. She wanted to scare him, to show him that she was serious, she didn't need safe-guarding and given the right circumstances she wasn't afraid to use lethal force.
"What is this?"
Her head jerked towards Derek, his eyebrows raised, eyes still frantic. "This is work." She rolled her eyes at his blank expression. "Unlike some people, most normal functioning members of society need to contribute to the greater mass, providing a service in exchange for monetary value which can be exchanged for goods such as a proper place to live, utilities, and food." Moving back to the remaining scattered pieces of material lying on the floor, she slowly gathered them into her arms, repeating her sequence of actions and dropping them into the green crate.
"You rip things into oblivion?" Georgie crooked her head, her mouth turning into a grimace. Derek had invaded her private space, the space that she could use to hide herself from the world. Isaac hadn't even been allowed here, no matter how much he whined at her, or tried to slink his way in here. It was one of the only rules that she had enforced with him and been serious about. Her breathing deepened as she clenched her hands into tight fists. Sharply she swung around to face Derek. They stood in silence for a few minutes before Georgie's breathing returned to it's usual slow, steady pace. Closing her eye's, she took a deep breath, steading herself, her body relaxing. Slowly her eyelids raised, reveling the ice blue pupils once again. She closed the gap between their two bodies and Derek stiffened as she approached him, smirked to herself she knew she would win this battle, either by driving him away of forcing him to speak.
"I make things. This is my studio Derek. I destroy things when I don't like them." Her lip curled as she looked up towards him, her neck craning slightly, "And right now I don't like you- in my studio- so- I guess the only option here is for you to leave…" She turned away from him and walked briskly to the back of the room, hauling a large roll of fabric that had been propped onto one of the lowest shelves. The old wood had dipped under it's weight but returned to normal as she twisted the large swathe into her arms. The breath heaved from her lungs as the full weight of the material rested in her arms "Or I destroy you."
She made her way back to the area that has perviously been occupied by the shredded material, dropping the bolt of fabric onto the wooden floorboards. It landed with a loud and decisive thump that echoed through the empty room. Her eyes slowly raising to Derek, hoping that he had turned and was starting to make his descent down the stairs. He eyes had focused on something in the room, his breathing heavy and his face contorted into a pained expression. Gradually Georgie's head followed his gaze and stared uncertainly at the clay structure to the side of her. Looking between Derek and the mold of earthy material her nose rumpled in confusion. Derek's eyes stayed firmly on the damp ochre shape, before the tension was released from his body and he took a cautious step forward. Georgie mimicked him and stepped closer towards him in response.
"What made you do that?" His head turned towards her, but his eyes were still fixed on the sculpture. All of Georgie's muscles began to tense, her cheeks growing rosy. She couldn't believe him, he had burst uninvited to one of her most private places and refused to leave and now he was going to question her creativity. Her eyes darted back to her bag as she started seriously considering walking over to Derek with the gun in her hand and threatening him.
"Georgiana. This is important," his voice was hoarse and low, the heel of his boot clapped against the timbered ground behind him as he took another step forward. Her body shivered involuntarily when her full name eased it's way from his lips. Georgie could hear the concern in his voice, the first time she had heard anything aside from maliciousness from him. Looking back, she noticed that he was staring at her in confusion.
Growling, crimson pigment filling her cheeks further, "Don't call me Georgiana." Derek cocked his head in response as his eyes crinkled in disorientation.
He smirked and she fumed, her fingers instinctively coiling inwards. Taking a firm step towards him, surprised as Derek did the same he looked down at his feet and then up towards her through his lashes. He was trying to deceive her, just as she had done to him. Unfortunately for his sake, Georgie wasn't as prone to the ploy of flirtation, "It's your name, isn't it?" His smirk began to take on characteristics of a leer as he took a breath, "Or would you prefer George?" Georgie saw his body rumble as he chuckled to himself.
"Over my full name, always-" she spat. "Now get- out- unless you're going to give me a reason why you're here." She stood still as she watched Derek look around the room again, groaning internally, she regretted not reaching for the gun earlier.
"That-" Her body slackened in stun, her muscles loosening and her fingers laying limp, unfurling from her palms. His arm was raised in front of him, a finger extending towards the clay mound that he had previously been studying.
"It's a fucking sculpture Derek. Get over it and get out."
"No." His head shook stiffly as his granite pupils bore into her own, "That specific shape." Turning her full attention towards the piece she studied it intently, eyes narrowing as she tried to make out a recognizable shape. Moulds of clay stuck haphazardly out of the main lofty spike that formed the centre. Thick bulges protruded from each side, spiraling and twisting away from each other, joining the main chunk haphazardly. She had been working on the structure for a few days, letting her hands run over the slick clay, shaping it absentmindedly without a design in mind. Yesterday she had stood around it for hours, her hands working furiously warping the materials, thinning sections, re-working them. Staring at it indifferently it looked like a morbid collection of organic forms, weaving around each other.
Heat rose into her face as she gawked at Derek incredulously, growing angry at his attempt of mockery. "It's not finished and there isn't a shape. It's just- just" she stammered for words, looking for an explanation, "it."
Derek's hand turned towards her, dragging it through the air towards him, beckoning for her. "From here, it's a shape. It's one I know." His eyes turned back to the misinformed sculpture before him as he cocked his head in confusion, eyebrows raising further towards his hairline. Cautiously Georgie took a step towards him, as she watched him intently, remaining still. Her feet padded along the floor as she advanced closer to him, coming to a stop to stand side by side. She could hear his breathing as she turned her gaze to the clay object in front of them, the organic form now flattening in front of her to form a solid shape, the layers of protruding material merging to form a shape she recognized.
"Fuck," the word was drawn, low and quiet, her body growing cold, she could feel her face grow ashen as her eyes widened in surprise. 3 spirals appeared from within her work, joining together in the centre, the main form, drooping to create the start of the highest circular shapes. For the past week, this singular shape had seeped it's way into her work. At first, she would see the shape in irregular paint splatters, then she found herself losing focus while she worked, allowing her hands to create images without a thought process. With each creative piece she produced the shape became more prominent, more substantial. She had kept working on this piece of sculpture solely because the recurring design hadn't emerged within it. Or so she had thought, she just wasn't paying enough attention. Hastily she left Derek's side, her feet carrying her towards the sculpture, her hands moving to a stub of clay, fingers wrapping around it. She could feel it ooze between her fingers as she squeezed harshly and wrenching it from the rest of the mound. Her other hand reached up and repeated the action, each hand grabbing different parts, pulling them off and tossing them to he floor.
Tears welled in her eyes in frustration, her nose scrunched and the skin on the bridge of her nose became raised as she pulled her eyebrows together in a scowl. She could feel Derek move behind her, his hands resting on her elbows, stilling her arms momentarily and she wailed, raising them above her head, smashing them into the clay, the shape becoming more disfigured. She sobbed quietly as her body slackened. Growing weak, her chest heaved in and out from the sudden exertion of energy.
"This is why you were screaming before weren't you?" Derek's voice was a low whisper, laced with concern and curiosity. Barely audible to her as she remained silent, both their eyes flashing towards the brimming crate of trash.
Derek
They were both sitting in a corner of the room, Derek looked over to Georgie, her body limp as it stretched across the floor, her eyes glued to the ceiling.
"Every time I do something, it's there. No matter how hard I try. I see it in everything I do." Her fingers ran through her hair, a smooth scrapping noise echoed throughout the room as they dragged along the wood, coming to rest beside her ear. "I see it everywhere, I can't even escape the damn thing in my dreams and so far all I know is that it has some connection to the bible. Holy father and his son… Or something like that." She took a deep breath in her chest rising from the ground and deflating just as quickly as the breath was dispelled from her lips.
Derek could hear the pitch in her voice as her sentence ended. Her heart bet slow and erratically. Derek's own body stiffened as Georgie took a gasp quickly and screamed. Her body thrashed around as her fist's pounded on the ground, her heels digging into the unforgiving floor. He watched her muscles tense as she threw her arms and legs around wildly, he considered moving over to her and holding her still. Her head was jolting from side to side, dark brown stands lashing across her face. Suddenly afraid she was having a fit he listened to her heart and inched closer towards her. It was steady but slowly rising to compensate for the exertion of energy. Her breathing became shallow and her heart beat spiked, quickening suddenly. Derek looked down at Georgie unsure of what to do, he could sense her anxiety, tainting her scent and assaulting him. He was caught off guard momentarily by her vulnerability. Seeing her twice, this was the second time she had cracked in front of him. Albeit the first time, she wasn't aware that he was still inside his house, watching her intently. Her emotions flooded his as he reached towards her and squeezed her hand gently. She was having a panic attack, a fucking panic attack because she saw the triskele in her art work. Her body froze rigidly and her eyes snapped up towards him, narrowing, the perfect blue and green speckles becoming hidden. He leaned in closer towards her, hoping that she wouldn't lash out, hoping then he wouldn't have to restrain her. Her heart beat bet furiously, her breathing had stopped.
Laying a hand gently onto her cheek as she gazed up at him, she gasped inwards. Derek watched as a knowing look spread across her face, "Y- You-", her hand grew taught around his as she sat up, their faces within an inch of each other. "You fucking idiot."
Derek tried to let go of her hand and move away from her, giving her some breathing space. She clutched on tighter as he started to pull away though. "I-" He was lost for words, scrambling for anything in his head to explain away everything.
"What are you doing here?" He was caught of guard, the question irrelevant to any of the answer's he was preparing in his mind. Her voice was calm and soft, he looked at her eyes, wide and innocent before they slowly moved down his face and rested on his lips. His breath caught in his throat, his heart beat slowly rising to meet the pace of hers. She closed the gap, her full lips resting delicately on his. His mind was running wild as images of them together rushed through his mind. His body pulsated with the need to touch her, to mark her, to claim her as his Mate. Her lips moved against his slightly and he froze, "Don't fucking lie to me again or I will castrate you in front of your pack and then nail your bloody balls to the front door of your disintegrating house for every pack that sets foot in Beacon Hills, to see."
His mind stilled in shock as he absorbed her words, his hand squeezed onto hers tighter a grimace pulling against his face. Scare tactics don't work Derek, he thought to himself, you can't scare her into doing anything. His forehead tapped against hers as she angled her mouth away. His hands moved to her waist as he wrenched her onto his lap, he could hear her heart beat rise again, becoming similar to the sound of a hummingbirds wings passing through the air. "That's all you say?" His mouth trailed along her cheek towards her lower earlobe and back again. He moved his hands gently up and down her waist, the warmth of her skin seeping through the thin fabric of the oversized shirt. The corners of their lips met, her shallow breathing caressing his cheek, as he smirked even larger, "I just helped you out of a burgeoning panic attack and that's what you say? I'm not here…" His lips slid against hers, pressing together lightly as hers opened in shock, "to hurt you," he could feel her breath flow from her mouth and into his, warm and inviting, "to taunt you or to threaten you." Derek could feel himself relaxing with her so close to him, the intimacy of the close contact with his Mate, riveting her emotions into him, "I'm here because-" Derek's voice was low now, his initial plan of confronting Georgie, catching her off guard had been lost in his emotions. The need to touch her even more, to kiss her and most of all, the instinctual need to claim her. She had been moving around Beacon Hills for the whole week, her scent spreading through the forest, through back roads and the main streets. He found himself following it, lingering in the places her scent was the strongest. This room was filled with her scent, over coming him, engulfing him in a tidal wave of her emotions. They ravaged him, encompassing him as he heard her heart, felt her breath against his lips, her muscles taught on top of him. "I want you to be safe. I want to make sure that you're okay, always. That no one's going to hurt you." He was letting words fall from his mouth without thought.
Derek felt her whisper against his lips, not pulling away, "Why?" Curiosity oozed from the singular word, her eyes meeting his. Her hands wrapped around his elbows, pulling him closer to her.
"Because you're mine. You are everything I've been thinking about this week, you are everything I ever will think about, making sure you're okay. Trying to figure out who you are and most importantly keeping you safe-" His breath caught on the last word, suddenly wrenched from his daze, realizing what he's said, as she pushed herself away from Derek, the same wide-eyed expression forming on her face.
"Oh god. Oh god- oh god- OH GOD." She shuffled back on heel of her palms. Her feet sliding across the ground as they meet pieces of destroyed sculpture. "This- That's- This is. Fuck-"
Authors Note: Hey guys! Thank y'all for reading and following so far! I hope you liked the little action I put in there, I felt like Georgie and Derek needed to have a little one on one. Anyways, I'm thinking about dropping this story... :( I have 2 more chapters written out but I haven't got much feedback (reviews). Let me know if you guys like this story, you're what keeps me writing and publishing!
Thanks so much! 3 Love all of your amazing faces. :)