The Runaway of Beacon Hills •• Derek Hale ••

Lunatic

The bright light shining through the curtains rudely woke me from my slumber. I rolled over onto my side and curled into the surprisingly warm pillow, the warmth caressing my skin in the most wonderful way and for a moment I felt completely at ease. I felt myself slipping back into my slumber when the pillow moved and I felt a weight around my waist.

I wanted to open my eyes, I wanted to move away so I could see what was around my waist but I was so warm and so comfortable that even the thought of opening my eyes made me want to go back to sleep. For once I actually had a peaceful nights sleep. I didn't have any nightmares, I didn't wake up every hour drenched in sweat because of the terrible dreams that normally plagued my mind.

The grip around my waist got tighter and I felt myself being pulled towards the pillow more. I tried to move but every time I made the attempt to move I kept getting pulled back.

I peeled my eyes open, the brightness of the room making me squint, I blinked rapidly and looked down at my waist and seen an arm wrapped around it protectively. I furrowed my brows and looked up and seen Derek sleeping peacefully next to me.

The wall of pillows was long gone and our legs were now entangled together. I looked back up at Derek and realized that he was the pillow that I had curled into. My head was laying on his chest and my arm was draped across his stomach.

I felt heat prickle around my ears and across my cheeks. I quickly turned around having my back facing Derek, his arm still wrapped around me. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest and my face felt like it was on fire. What the hell is going on? I thought to myself. How did we end up like that?

I sighed and made an attempt to get up. I tried to sit up but every slight movement I made Derek's grip got tighter around my waist keeping me stuck in the same spot. I pursed my lips as I thought of a way to escape his death grip.

"Derek." I said quietly, I rolled over to face him and seen he was still sleeping soundly. He looked so peaceful, he didn't look like someone who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

I sighed as I gently shook his shoulder. "Derek." I said a little louder. Still nothing.

"Derek." He moved slightly in his sleep. I rolled my eyes and slapped his shoulder as hard as I could. His eyes snapped open and he looked around the room angrily, he looked down at me and all the anger seemed to leave his face.

"What did you do that for?" He asked groggily and closed his eyes. I leaned my head in my hand and propped myself up so I could look at him.

"Because I wanna take a shower." I said. He opened his eyes slightly and looked at me confused.

"You hit me and woke me up because...."

"I can't take a shower if I can't get out of your Kung-Fo death grip." I said looking down at his arm that was still protectively around my waist. He sat up slightly and looked at his arm, he quickly let go of me and laid back down. My waist suddenly feeling cold at the lack of contact.

I suddenly felt very awkward, I quickly tossed my legs over the edge of the bed and ran to the bathroom. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm my nerves, I leaned against the counter and looked in the mirror. My cheeks were blood red and my pupils were so enlarged that the blackness seemed to drown out the bright blue of my irises.

I raked a hand through my long hair and sighed. Why is it that when something gets too awkward or too difficult my first response is to run away? Why can't I ever just face something head on? One day these problems are going to come at me all at once and I won't be able to run away.