I'm Home

Making friends

Waking up is horrible.

The sunlight is harsh as it shines through the window and hits her face, [y/n] groans weakly and attempts to turn on her side for a few more minutes of shut eye. A horrendous scorching pain shoots through her, the burning sensation clinging to her tired body and causes her to wake up with a start. Wide eyed [y/n] sits atop of the bed, the scare making her temporarily forgetting about the pain as she awkwardly tries to hold herself in an upright position. Risking a glance down she can see the bandages covering her arm, when lifting the duvet she noted her legs are in the same shape as gauze covers her [s/c] legs from her feet to her sleeping shorts.

It appears her dream of getting attacked was in fact no dream, it was real and now she's injured. As [y/n] glances around the room she feels herself flood with relief, at least she's in her own home, the Whitebeards didn't take her to theirs when she fainted. All they did was taking her back to her home and treat her wounds, that much us clear from the bandages and the glass of water on the bedside table, a pill of some kind of painkiller next to it.

Immediately upon spotting the small pill [y/n] snatches it away, plopping it in her mouth while chugging down half of the glass' content. The hot and fiery pain gradually lessens and [y/n] can feel the heavy burden fall from her shoulders.

[y/n] wonders where the wolves from yesterday went to, she's more than glad they brought her home but... did they leave?

Calmly, without putting too much pressure on her sore body, she makes her way to the door. She's hungry and desperately wants some food. Out of caution she sniffs the air, an extra check to see if they are still there. It didn't prove to be useful as her entire home holds their scents. Which is extremely bothersome, as much as she appreciates their help, [y/n] isn't ready to meet them at all. Worst case scenario they try to sweet talk her into joining the pack, that's not something she wants.

The rich underlying scent of a sea breeze invades her nose and for a moment she feels at complete ease, [y/n] definitely loves this scent, even if she's against the idea of having a mate. Shaking off those wandering thoughts she moves opens her door, the calming scent becomes more prominent the moment she does and her eyes land on something that roots her on the spot.

There, in front of her, stands her mate. Wide-eyed he stares at her with a tray holding several medicines and other first-aid supplies in his hands, his mouth slowly opening and closing as he moves to say something but is unable to articulate the words.

Out of everything she expected, this was not something she thought would happen—secretly she knew this might happen but she's going to blame that on her hormone filled brain wanting other stuff. [y/n] appreciates the thought and care he gives her, but right now she doesn't need him around. She's more than capable of dealing with troubles on her own and the fact that he is there somehow annoys her, it might be a different feeling she's confusing for annoyance but right now [y/n] doesn't have the time or patience to figure out what it is.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice small yet commanding, suppressing her happy emotions that try to break free as she masks herself in a display of indifference.

Her mate opens his mouth, repeating the same process from before as he struggles to find the words to say. After mentally debating with himself for a bit he settles on; "you're hurt, I want to treat your wounds, yoi." Lifting the tray with the arrangement of first-aid supplies up for her to see.

"I'm fine, I can treat myself. You can leave now." Despite the intimidating stance she's desperately clinging onto, [y/n] is having a hard time convincing her mate she's fine. Right now she's more than ready to flop back on bed and let the man do his thing, her body still screaming at her for walking around in the first place.