When Florence woke, she found herself cold and naked, lying next to none other than Derek Hale, who was also lacking in clothing. Her eyes widened slightly as she sat up, feeling aches throughout her core with a pouding headache.

Derek lye on his stomach with his forearms under the pillow he buried half of his face into and remained asleep despite the shift of weight on the bed. She stared down at him, her eyes still wide, as her mind raced for... Anything. She couldn't really think straight with that damned headache.

Oh my god... WHAT?! WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?! She shifted slightly, feeling uncomfortable. It's not that she didn't want to be with Derek... It just freaked her out how she couldn't remember much of anything.

The last thing I remember is taking shots with him at the bar... Wait... Is that how this happened? She couldn't help but facepalm- which she soon realized was a horrible idea- sending thuds of pain throughout her head. She fought back a groan, trying not to make any noise so she wouldn't wake the sleeping man next to her. She'd always known he was a light sleeper considering they'd napped together on several accounts, each time she shifted he would also. But this time, he barely moved.

He must be in a pretty deep sleep, then... God... What time is it? she thought as she slowly turned her head to the bedside table where she found a small digital clock. The red digits read: 8 a.m.

Florence sighed lightly and leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees and put her face in her hands. I shouldn't have gotten drunk... That was so stupid of me. Mom is going to kill me when I get home. I bet she's already blown up my phone... She swallowed and clenched her jaw slightly, picking up her head to look out the huge window. The storm had calmed down to a drizzle, keeping the skies dark, and providing little light in the loft. She didn't have problems seeing obvious things about the room, such as the desk, the spiral staircase... Derek... And the clothes that littered the floor.

She stood slowly, not having to push any sheets off of her body since the blankets were never pulled back. The short brunette carefully took a few steps forward toward the clothes and kneeled to look through them, finding her cell phone in her jeans as well as several tears in the fabrics. Her first assumption was they got caught on something sharp, but she quickly shot the idea down. How would their jeans, as well as their underwear, be torn as if someone took a knife to them? The tears weren't just tears, either... They really did look like a wild animal got to them. An animal...

It wasn't the first time she found tears in her clothes. On rare occasions, she'd find small cuts in her jeans, usually around her knees where Derek would place his hand while driving. It's always with Derek...

Shaking her head lightly, she unlocked her phone only to find five text messages as well as five missed calls from none other than her overprotective mother. There was only one text from her sister, London.

London: When will you be home? Colven misses you.

Florence skipped to the next several messages.

Mom: Are you going to be home soon?

Mom: Florence?

Mom: It's 3 a.m. and you're still not home. I'm getting worried...

Mom: Florence, if you don't respond within the next half hour, I'm calling the cops.

Mom: Called the cops.

Florence's eyes widened as she read the fourth message. You would, Mom...

Florence: I'm sorry I didn't respond earlier. I went out with a friend last night and I crashed at their place. You didn't really call the cops, did you?

She kept her phone in her hand while she picked up the clothes and put them on the desk where she found her bra, half-hanging off the edge. She looked around the room briefly, grateful to see that Derek was still sleeping. She wasn't so grateful, however, to see the loft door opened wide. Memories of the previous night slowly came to her as she trotted silently from the desk to a cabinet where she knew he kept his clothes.

She remembered... Hearing the loft door bang as it flew to the side... And Derek was carrying her to the bed... She blinked several times and rubbed her eyes before quietly opening the cabinet and pulling some light grey sweat pants- obviously too big for her- and a black tank top out to take to the bathroom.

As she quickly padded past the bed, keeping her eyes on Derek only to tear her gaze to where she was going- and walked through the giant hole in the wall that she knew led to a bathroom of some sort. It was even darker, so dark she could barely see three feet in front of her. Florence unlocked her phone and used it as a flashlight, finding it easier to navigate her way through the dark hallway. Within a few seconds, she turned right and found the washroom. She flipped on the lightswitch, immediately shielding her eyes when the light entered her widened pupils.

It wasn't much at all. In the upper right corner, there was an open shower with a high showerhead, one that easily came above Derek. On the entire left side, save a square space for the toilet, there was a metal counter shelving a stack of white towels with a large mirror. Walking to the counter with a shiver from the cold, she set the clothes she borrowed and her cell phone down. She then looked in the mirror and her eyes grew wide.

Florence found five gashes on both hips, maybe half a centimeter deep. Her heart rate picked up in a little fear, and more memories came back to her.

She saw Derek rip her clothes off- literally- with what she was sure were claws. But... How could he have claws? Florence kept staring at the gashes, seeing how they were dark red since the wounds had clotted with blood and dried to stop the bleeding... The color was not like fresh blood. Red...

Red... Why does red seem like it should mean- She frowned, not believing what she remembered. His eyes were burning red... But... It all must have been a dream. A crazy, sexual dream. Maybe I'm still dreaming. Yeah, I'm still dreaming... But just to make sure... Florence looked down at her fingers and counted to ten, never faltering. I'm not dreaming...

She didn't know how long she stood there before she finally stopped staring at her fingers and went to the shower and turned it on. Cold water immediately sprang out from the showerhead and she jumped back, feeling the cold on her leg. Florence adjusted the water to a hot temperature and stepped under it, shuddering lightly when she felt the liquid pour over her aching body.

She faced the wall and closed her eyes, still seeing the memories coming back to her. Florence swallowed, not sure if she should blame the alcohol for what she remembered. Honestly, she wished she could. She wished she could say that what she was seeing was because of her drunken state, but she couldn't. It was just... Too real.

It's not like a dream... It seems so real... How else would you explain the claw marks? Was I right all along? She kept thinking, kept trying to remember, but all she got was Derek's claws, his eyes burning red, and a few foggy, brief moments of him thrusting into her...

Her heart beat quickened at the thought of the latter. Although she could barely remember it, she remembered the sensation that came with it. But still, she couldn't shake the feeling of how... Wrong? it felt, and that feeling could only escalate as she thought about what exactly happened.

I was drunk... And he... He... He took that from me... Tears slowly began welling up in her hazel eyes. The last time we got close... He told me we couldn't... But when I was drunk... He promised he wasn't like Kyle... He promised... A tear rolled down her cheek and she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling uncomforble showering in an open washroom in Derek's loft, knowing that he lay asleep, naked from what they... He... Did with her in his bed.

Florence hung her head by a little, allowing the hot water to run down her neck. She was starting to calm herself down, not wanting to cry.

"God," she mumbled, "why did you have to make me so emotional in the mornings?"

She jumped and gasped, quickly turning around when she felt hands lightly grip her shoulders and a warm body right behind her as he kissed her neck ever-so-slightly. "Because he knew it wouldn't be you otherwise."

She looked up at him, her eyes widened slightly. "Der..."

He smiled slightly and kissed her forehead. "Good morning, rabbit."

Florence forced herself to smile back at him as she turned so her front was facing him. She cautiouslly wrapped her arms around his waist, as if she were trying to go near a dangerous animal.

Ha. How ironic.

"Are you ok?" he mumbled, his voice low and smooth as it mixed with the sound of the water.

She nodded quickly. "Yeah. I'm alright."

He could hear her heart pounding in her chest.

"No... You're not."

Once again, he's able to see right through me...

Derek began lightly rubbing his hands on her hips, making her gasp in pain. "Woah, what's the-" he cut himself off when he saw the cuts on her hips, and his eyebrows came together in a saddened frown as his mouth hung open slightly.

The horrible memories of Kyle hurting her then ordering her to swear silence rushed back to her, forcing her to react the only way she knew how. Florence quickly stepped back, putting her hands out in front of her. "P- please... Don't hurt me. I-I won't tell anyone! I swear!"

He stared at her disbelievingly. Florence, his Florence... Was staring at him in fear. "Babe, I'm not gonna hurt you..." he took a small step forward.

"That's exactly what he said," she whimpered with terror in her eyes, taking another step back.

An ache as well as anger swept through his chest seeing her back down like that... She thought that he was the same as a man who abused her. "Florence, I am not Kyle. It's me. Me! Derek... I won't hurt you..." He took another step forward, making her step back again, desperate to keep space between them.

She shivered when her skin came in contact with the cold tile of the wall. "How do I know it's just you?!"

"What...?" He shifted his weight forward, signifying he was going to move closer.

"Stay away from me, damn it!"

He stopped. "Alright, Florence," his voice was soothing and warm, "I'll keep my distance... But please, listen to me. I love you. Do you get that? I love you. I- I wouldn't... I wouldn't hurt you..." His voice dropped so low she could barely hear it, "Deliberately."

Her voice was small and weak, something he hadn't heard from her in so long... Not since she told him about Kyle. "But... Derek, I was drunk... A- and- you... You..." her entire body was shaking.

A huge wave of guilt hit him in the chest with a powerful blow. Honestly, he thought something had literally hit him since it sent him back a step. "Florence... I am so sorry," the emotional stress he had been trying so hard to keep down was flooding to the surface. He couldn't stand seeing her this hurt, especially over something that serious because of him. "If I could take it back-"

"Don't say that!" she cut him off, her voice gaining a bit of strength. "It's not that I didn't want to do that with you, Derek... It's just the way it happened... And... I swear," she looked to the wet tile floor and her voice dropped to a tone inaudible to human hearing, "I saw things..."

Derek's heart leaped into his mouth. "You saw what?"

"You wouldn't believe me," she whispered.

"You'd be surprised of what I believe..."

Her eyes slowly inched up, looking him up and down. How the hell is he able to hear me when my voice is so quiet...? She adjusted her arms around herself, remembering that they were both completely naked... "I- I... I thought you..." she sighed and lowered her gaze again. "When I woke up this morning, I found our clothes torn to shreds... Derek, last night I could have swore I saw you with claws."

His heart was pounding in his chest, but he couldn't move. He could only stare at her in horror. What he wanted to keep from her was being dragged out into the open where she would just stumble across it and fall. Now all he could do was hope and pray that he would be able to catch her.

"And... Your eyes... They were red. Like, searing crimson, red..." When he only continued staring at her, she sighed and shook her head lightly. "I knew you wouldn't believe me... You probably think I'm crazy."

Still, he couldn't say anything. Fuck... She's so suspicious...

All he could do was turn toward the counter, slowly walk away from the shower and grab a towel, wrapping it around his hips before he began walking toward the bathoom exit.

"Wh- where are you going?" she nearly cried, taking a step after him but stopping herself.

"I... I think we both need a few minutes to ourselves... To think. I'm going to go get dressed. When you're ready, come on out and we can talk." He said quietly then left from the bathroom and went to find some clothes.

Florence could only sink back to the wall, her mind racing. Why didn't he object to what I just told him? Does he believe me? Does... Does this mean I was right the whole time? About there being something different about him? ... I don't believe it, myself. But then... I do. Was I right as a child when I believed mythical creatures could exist?

Although the visions of red eyes clouded her mind and thoughts swirled in her head, she made sure she finished her shower, hoping it could help calm her. She washed her hair and body with Derek's shampoo and body wash, taking in the scent that she loved so much.

She never understood what it meant to love someone's scent up until she and Derek got together. Other than that, she didn't care much for others' scents. His was the only one that could calm her down when she was upset... Even now.

Florence inhaled deeply through her nose and instantly relaxed, if only by a little. She rinsed then shut off the water, went to the counter, grabbed a towel and dried herself off as she checked her phone. No messages. Mom must be asleep...

In her mind, now that she had taken a moment to collect herself and calm down, she was prepared to walk out of the washroom and face Derek. She just wished her body was. All she could really do was get dressed- taking care not to put much pressure on the wounds on her hips- and wish her underwear was not torn and her bra was not still sitting on the table. She sighed and shook her hair out, looking in the mirror.

Just go talk to him... Try to make sense of this. This... This is Derek I'm thinking about... Derek. Not Kyle... I'm sure whatever happened last night wasn't his fault... It was probably the alcohol. Yeah. Wait. No. How could he have driven home without crashing in that heavy rain?

Florence sighed and rubbed her face. It doesn't matter... I just need to talk to him.

Once clothed in dark jeans and a mid-sleeve black and grey shirt, Derek paced quickly in front of the desk, his heartbeat rapid. Oh my god, this is actually happening. She's finding out... Florence is a smart girl. She was going to find out sooner or later... Fuck I am such an idiot! He let out a small growl, mentally punching himself in the face. I should tell her. No. I shouldn't. Yes, I should. NO! I can't! But... I have to. After what happened last night, after seeing what she saw, she should know. Or... I could just come up with some excuse... But then how would you explain those claw marks? Another ton of guilt weighed down his shoulders when he remembered the claw marks. The guilt got even heavier when he remembered digging his claws into her hips...

"God, Florence," he kept pacing, but he slowed down and put his head in his hands, "I'm so sorry..."

"You don't have to apologize," she mumbled, causing Derek's head to snap in her direction, warily walking closer to the bed. "I... I think I understand..."

Derek immediately started walking toward her but he stopped dead in his tracks when she took a step back, her hands going up to about her lower torso defensively. She would have put them up more, but she stopped herself. Stay calm... It's Derek, not Kyle.

Although he felt his heart shatter from seeing her back away from him, he stepped away to the table and sat on it. "You do? What do you think happened?" His voice was low and even, knowing that he needed to be calm to keep her calm.

"I... I don't know... But then I feel as if I do. For one, what we did last night-"

"You were drunk. I shouldn't ha-"

"Don't cut me off. Not now. You asked me what I thought I understood, so I'm going to elaborate... I need to." When he only stared at her, waiting for her to go on, she continued, "What happened last night... I don't regret. Derek, I trust you more than anyone in the whole world. You took care of me after... You know... And you made sure I was able to live again. You made sure I was happy and honestly, I am happy. I'm happier than I've ever been in my entire life. But I saw some things last night. Things I don't completely get. Maybe it was just the alcohol... But that doesn't explain these." She gestured to her hips. "I don't know why I saw your eyes turn red, or why I thought you had claws... But something tells me I didn't see that because I was drunk."

Derek kept staring at her, not knowing what to say. All he could do was listen to his own pounding heartbeat and try to sort out his thoughts. I can't keep her in the dark forever... I should just walk away now, but... How could I do that to her? After what she just told me? She has so much trust in me, she sees me as a hero. How could I just break her heart like that? I... I need to tell her.

"Please say something," she whispered, almost pleading.

"I-I'm sorry... I just.. I'm trying to figure out how to say this," he looked down at the pulsing veins in his hands, swallowing.

"How to- How to say what?"

Once again, a long silence.

Beat-beat, beat-beat, beat-beat...

Finally, "Florence... I..." He sighed and rubbed both sides of his nose with his thumbs under his jaw, "You should sit down."

She frowned slightly but made her way to the bed, noticing blotches of blood on the blankets. Florence did her best to ignore them, looking back at Derek. "Alright. Now what is it?"

Derek rested his hands in his lap, keeping his head down. He knew if he were to try to say what he was going to tell her while looking her in the eye, he'd fail. "The reason why you have those wounds on your hips... Why you saw my eyes red... I... It's.. It's because I'm not the same."

So it wasn't the alcohol... "What do you mean?" she asked with a slight tilt to her head, her voice quiet.

"I mean," he looked up at her, "I'm not human, Florence."

I knew it... She stared at him questioningly. "Then... What are you?"

"I'm..." he glanced out the window, wishing he didn't have to continue, "Please don't call me insane."

"I won't call you insane... Now tell me."

Derek looked back at her, finding her with an intent stare.

"I'm a wolf, Florence."

She raised her eyebrows. Not the answer she was expecting, but then... She really wasn't expecting anything because she didn't have a clue. "A wolf... As in a werewolf... Right."

He huffed and stood, walking toward the staircase by a few feet, "I knew you wouldn't believe me," and turned back to her. "It's alright if you call me insane. I understand."

"No! No... I don't think you're insane... I just... Believe you."

"You do? Seriously?" He asked incredulously, earning a slow nod from her. "How?"

"As a kid, I always believed myths could be true. I didn't know which ones, but I knew that at least one of them were real. So... It's not hard for me to believe that someone is a werewolf. That someone being you is kind of hard to swallow... But... It makes sense..."

He couldn't believe it. She was just taking all of it in as if someone told her about their day!

"What do you mean it makes sense?"

"Well, your eyes for one. They turned red, Derek. Two, you had claws... And there are puncture wounds on my hips about the width of the last knuckle of my pinky. If they were much slimmer, I'd say you just need to trim your nails... But they're not. Our clothes are shredded. So... It proves you had claws..." Florence trailed off, staring at his hands.

He swallowed again, watching her. "How are you able to accept this so easily?"

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Of course."

A very slight blush crept across her face, not going unnoticed by Derek. "I have this thing for werewolves..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Thing?"

"Yeah... I mean I loved Twili-"

"Oh, Florence, no!" he cried, raw embarrassment all over his face. "Please, don't tell me you swoon over the wannabe werewolf in that damned chick flick!"

"Ay! Don't make fun of my baby!" Florence shot back, standing.

"Your baby?!" His voice had never been more incredulous.

"Yeah! Jacob is my baby, man! He's so ad-" she cut herself off, noticing the jealousy that was written all over his face. She really couldn't help but smile. "Oh, stop. You know you're my one and only."

Your one and only... Pure relief washed over him and stared at her, silent for a moment before he spoke up, "Even after..."

"Even after?"

"Even after what I did..."

She frowned slightly. "Der, it's not like I'm some random chick that you picked up off of the street because she was drunk... I'm your girlfriend. So we had sex... It happens."

"So it doesn't bother you at all that I took your virginity while you were drunk," it was more of a statement than a question.

"A little... But not as much as it would if it were anyone else. I just wish I could remember more of it."

"More than just my eyes burning red with claws digging into your hips."

"Yeah..." she whispered.

For a long while, they stood there in silence, observing each other. While Derek was searching her for signs of what she was feeling, she was looking for signs of him being a werewolf.

Now that I think of it... He does look like he could be one. He has the build...

What is she thinking? She's just watching me, so it's hard to tell... Her heartbeat is even and relaxed even though I just told her something I've kept from her for almost two years now...

God, that perfect, perfect build...

She's not saying anything... Should I say something?

His chest... Arms... Abs... Damn, this man never ceases to amaze me...

Why is her heart rate going up?!

Hey! Stop being so freaking hot, man!

Wait... She's not afraid or angry... Is that... Lust?

"Uh... Florence?"

"Yeah?" She was still fixated on his chest.

"... My eyes are up here..."

Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red and her eyes slowly drifted up to his. "Heh heh... Right."

Derek couldn't help but smirk. Almost two years and she still stared at him like they just met.

"S- sorry... I was just looking for some clues..."

"Clues? Clues to what?" he asked with a slight tilt of his head.

"You being a werewolf," she mumbled sheepishly.

"Oh... You don't actually want to see that, do you?"

"Derek, I told you I like werewolves. I just found out my boyfriend is one. Why wouldn't I?"

He could stare at her, his mouth hanging open slightly. He couldn't believe it... All these months keeping something so huge from her, all for nothing!

"So... Could you show me?" she asked, taking a small step forward.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because..."

"'Because' isn't an answer, Derek," she stated.

A short pause. "You're not going to let me go till I show you, are you?"

"Nope."

He sighed, looking down to the ground for a moment. She really won't... He knew it.

With a sigh, Derek closed his eyes for a brief moment, only to open them again. They were searing red.

Florence stared at his eyes, slowly making her way to him. She had to admit... She did feel a bit of fear trying to push itself into her mind, but awe destroyed it. When she was finally close enough to touch him without outstretching her arm, she noticed there was something under his lips...

He reluctantly pulled a corner of his upper lip up and tilted his head to a better angle so she could see better, baring a long, sharp fang. Florence stared at it, knowing that it could tear into her flesh so easily... But it wouldn't. She trusted him enough to pick up his hands...

She turned them over so his palms were facing the floor and she studied his claws, lightly pressing her thumb against the tip of his left index finger, just to see how sharp it was. It punctured the first layer of her skin with ease.

All Derek could do was watch her examine him, trying to figure out why she wasn't running.

She said she likes werewolves... But a lot of other people do and they would be running away screaming. But then, this is Florence. The girl who proved you can get past anything.