♡ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗜𝗫𝗧𝗬-𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥 ♡

3.7K 155 63
                                    


♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 sixty-four

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 sixty-four

bury a friend.

─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───

JAMES GARCIA felt his stubble glide across his hand with every nervous rub of his neck. A chill ran up his spine and goosebumps littered the bare skin that hid underneath his unbuttoned collar.  With a bag slung over his arm and his bare fingertips - still adorned with a few rings - tapped against the wooden door, he waited patiently.

Perhaps his paranoia was unjust. Or perhaps this was a completely bad idea to begin with. 

He stepped away, turning his back to the door and opting to keep his mindless theories in his, well, mind. James could almost feel the cold air cradle around his skin and his footsteps echoed further down the hall, at least, until his name murmured back to him. 

"Jim." Derek Hale peeked from behind the door. Eyes dreary from exhaustion. Shoulders dropped in a usual sour fashion. However, that didn't stop him from raising both brows at the sight of him. "It's 4 in the morning. This better be important... or-"

"You'll tear my throat out. Got it. Heard it many times." The lawyer pushed his way into the Hale residence before glancing around rather erratically. "Is Peter here?"

Derek felt the muscles strain as he crossed his arms in distaste. He blew the hair out of his face - which was already a mess from his interrupted sleep - and folded both brows into another frown. "And here I thought you were here to see me."

The human Garcia turned to the werewolf with another stern look. "No, he's not here. He's out trying to make amends with Malia." He watched as James scrunched up his face with self-doubt and shook his head in dismay. "Why, what's up?"

James reached for the booklet in his left pocket, the paper snagging on his zippers and pricking at his fingers. But for some reason, just as the words 'Mystic Falls' peeked out from the material, he stopped. 

Instead, the booklet sunk back deeper into his pockets. His eyes averted Derek's and his enthusiasm dwindled.

It didn't seem fair. Derek Hale was already involved enough in the horror that had become James Garcia's everyday life. He didn't need any more burdens to carry. He did not need another family's baggage. 

"It's nothing." James shook his head and forced a smile. "Forget it. You very obviously need your beauty sleep." He found himself nodding along with his own words. The lawman pushed a pair of sunglasses over his eyes and spun his neck around to turn away. 

𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ── 𝘚.𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘚𝘒𝘐Where stories live. Discover now