Allure | Stilinski [1]

NINE ➳ DEREK

Rowan thought she was more tired than she usually was, but maybe it was just all in her head. She couldn't focus in English class and Chemistry, but maybe it was because those were her two classes with Stiles. Thankfully, Chem was the subject she slept through because the teacher could literally be a spawn of Satan. Rowan hated him. Mr. Harris, the most awful teacher Rowan has ever encountered, hit her upside the head with a stack of papers to wake her up earlier, and she had to jerk her head up to see everyone around her laughing. Yeah, Rowan hated him so much.

Today, Rowan was shuffling through the hallways at the end of the day, wondering who her ride home was. Lydia was going out with Jackson and Allison was "studying" with Scott. Studying my ass, she thought. Those two can't just study. So, she was planning to walk home because the weather was nice. Jogging has been making her think more, so maybe a peaceful stroll would change that.

As she walked through the corridor, blue lockers lining the walls, Rowan stopped by her own to grab a couple notebooks to do some homework. Looking around, there weren't any other loitering students. Most already caught their buses or left the minute they were allowed to. The emptiness chilled her spine.

Schools are always scarier when they're empty. Rowan awkwardly exchanged her books, fumbling uncomfortably as she tried to shove a textbook into her large purse. In the midst of this, she knocked over several water bottles she stashed in her lockers, causing them to thump against the floor in a rambunctious clatter. She bent down to grab them quickly, looking around to see if anyone saw her clumsiness, but then again, the halls were empty and Rowan shivered slightly. I gotta get out of here.

When she finally closed her locker softly, Rowan walked down the corridor, more so power walk, heels clicking against the floor. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she chanted, hearing her own breath and maybe someone else's. She wasn't sure. In her frightened state, she assumed every sound she made was made by someone else.

Walk faster, she ordered herself. Screw it, just run around the corner—and then she screamed, for there was Derek Hale, the person she could have sworn was arrested last week for the splitting his sister in half.

Rowan gawked at him greatly, jerking her head left and right to see if anyone else noticed his presence. Was she just imaging things? Or is there really a murderer in the hallways of her high school right now? Rowan didn't understand why she didn't run because deep down she hoped he wasn't the murderer because what person can slaughter their own sibling? That was her problem. Rowan always hopes that there's good in people when there isn't a spark of innocence left in their soul.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she squawked, taking in his appearance. He was paler than usual, dark bags resting below his eyes. Sweat trickled down the side of his face as he panted heavily. Still, that murderous glint in his eye shined brightly.

"So, we meet again, Princess," Derek uttered, wincing slightly. Rowan was still trying to maintain her shock, and her increased heart rate because, wow, she felt like she was going to pass out from her initial fear. "You're gonna do me a favor. Help me find Scott McCall."

Rowan gripped her handbag tightly, wondering if she could take him down with a couple beatings with her purse. He looks weak. I can take him. She tried to remember if there was pepper spray in the secret pocket of the interior. Her hand hovered over her bag slightly, but it immediately moved away when Derek flickered his blue eyes to her movement.

"Why? Are you going to rip him in half too?" she exhaled, trying to keep her calm, but she was nervous, and somehow Derek knew it, too. It was like he heard her heart beating furiously against her ribcage.