Peter Hale (
work_inprogress) wrote2013-07-03 11:15 pm
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For we all are caught in the middle / Of one long treacherous riddle (For Lydia)
It was quite possible that Lydia was not flirting with the Alpha twin. Possible Aiden was hitting on her and being gently shut down. Possible Stiles was wrong. The rational side of Peter's brain told him that's what it was as he lurked outside the school, watching Lydia in a way that was not at all creepy or stalkery. Really.
He was just checking on her, given her repeated trances and her fear of what was going on. He was looking out for her, making sure she was okay. It was concern, not territorial marking. Really.
He'd already done that.
A faint growl escaped his throat and the Alpha boy's head snapped toward the woods, but Peter was already gone.
Peter followed her the rest of the afternoon, into the evening, watched her with her friends. Watched as Aiden followed her, too, though far more openly. Pity, when the boy came back out, his tires had been slashed, and Peter didn't much care if he thought Scott or Isaac had done it. He had no proof and reason enough to already go after them. What were a couple of tires?
He was at her home before her. After determining her mother wasn't home--a far too usual occurrence for his idea of decent parenting, but highly convenient--he leaped to the tree by her window, then let himself in through it. He didn't sprawl out on her bed to wait, this time. He paced in the darkness instead, moving to the far corner of the room when he heard her car, out of her line of sight when she'd come in. Leaning against the wall there, he waited.
He was just checking on her, given her repeated trances and her fear of what was going on. He was looking out for her, making sure she was okay. It was concern, not territorial marking. Really.
He'd already done that.
A faint growl escaped his throat and the Alpha boy's head snapped toward the woods, but Peter was already gone.
Peter followed her the rest of the afternoon, into the evening, watched her with her friends. Watched as Aiden followed her, too, though far more openly. Pity, when the boy came back out, his tires had been slashed, and Peter didn't much care if he thought Scott or Isaac had done it. He had no proof and reason enough to already go after them. What were a couple of tires?
He was at her home before her. After determining her mother wasn't home--a far too usual occurrence for his idea of decent parenting, but highly convenient--he leaped to the tree by her window, then let himself in through it. He didn't sprawl out on her bed to wait, this time. He paced in the darkness instead, moving to the far corner of the room when he heard her car, out of her line of sight when she'd come in. Leaning against the wall there, he waited.
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He was silent for a few moments longer, playing with the ends of her hair. When he spoke, his tone was a little wry. "I was just thinking how...I wasn't always like this. I'd still have been jealous, six years ago, but I wouldn't have leapt to violence so quickly." He paused, them grimaced. "Not that this would have happened six years ago, obviously." She'd been eleven. He wasn't a pedophile, whatever else you said about him. "But if you'd been grown or near, and I'd just been...who I was."
He paused, then shook his head. "No. Who I was wouldn't have touched you, even if he wanted to. Not until you'd at least gotten out of high school."
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"Or maybe not." She lifted her head to look at him finally. "If things had happened differently, you wouldn't have needed me the way you did. I might not have even been on your radar."
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It was hard to think of her not in his radar, but he had to admit she was probably right. Unless Cora had brought her home, he might not have laid eyes on her for a while. He wouldn't have been the Alpha, so wouldn't have turned Scott and been pulled into their world.
"I probably wouldn't have been on yours, either," he pointed out with a wry smile.
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The idea made her frown as she watched her fingers drifting over his chest. Strange, she felt possessive now too.
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"Doubtful," he murmured, to the thought in her head more than the words she said. "My brother was the Alpha, already with children. I wasn't in a hurry to find a mate and be more than an uncle." It likely would have meant breaking off and forming another pack--allied, but independent. They'd grow too large, otherwise. Often, second sons never took mates, just helping to raise the young of the pack, as wolves in the wild did.
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Peter shrugged, reaching to trace a fingertip down her cheek. "Maybe a little bit..." He'd left a piece of his soul in her, after all. It wasn't that challenging.
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He tilted his head, considering her. "I don't know. I can't do it all the time." Just when they were in sync like this, it seemed.
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He gave her a smile. "When we're sleeping, I don't really have any control, but it seems easier. Like something's pulling me to you."
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"Probably," he agreed quietly, reaching to trace his fingers slowly over the scars.
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"You should hate me for a lot of things," he agreed quietly. "Why don't you?"
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As though hating and resisting him was like waging a battle upon herself.
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He didn't have an answer for that but to be grateful. One hand slid to her chin to lightly tilt her head up farther before he leaned down to kiss her gently.
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Peter tightened his arm around her and nipped at her lower lip. His tongue soothed the sting away, and he deliberately tried to temper his kisses into something softer, gentler than the storm he'd brought in with him.
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Her touches reminded him how much he needed to lose his clothes, but he was distracted enough by the slide of her leg to shudder and moan into the kiss rather than doing anything about it.
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Peter was still fairly emotionally drained, upset in some ways by his own upset--implications and actual feeling both. He returned the touches, though he did pause to pull off his shirt, just to feel her against more of his skin.
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