Alx's P.O.V

Entering the room, I see her. She's on her haunches picking up the broken pieces of plats and glass. Her thinner frame angers me. Why does it anger me?

I walk closer to her. Her head snapping in my direction, she franticly shakes her hands; telling me not to come closer. I was about to snap at her. But as I look down, I see that I'm about to step on a piece of glass. I am wearing shoes, but it would still hurt. That, and me stepping on it would make it harder to clean up. That's probably what's she's more concerned about.

"You put those down and stand over there. I'll pick up the rest. I can heal faster than you can."

She reluctantly does as asked. Sitting on the bed, she stares at the wall. She seems so empty. Why?

After picking up all the pieces, I throw them in the bin. Moving the chair closer to the bed, I sit down and look at her. I don't know why but I want to be at her side. Why would I want that?

'Because-'

'Not now, Eric.'

Her eyes slowly move away from whatever they were looking at in the distance and make their way to me. She quickly looks me up and down, almost questionably. She moves from her spot in the middle of the bed and to the far corner of it and leans on the wall. Putting as much space between herself and I. Eric is a little upset about this. I won't bother to ask why. He's not making any sense these days.

In most circumstances, her actions would have been ones of fear. But she's not scared. Now that I think of it, I've never sensed any fear from her. Not when she was clinging to her brother while being torn to shreds. Not when she hid in the closet. Not even when she curled up into a ball. Why do such things if you weren't scared? She just sits there. As if she's waiting for me to leave. So, I just sit here and continue to watch her.
-
It's been about ten minutes if not more. And she's still sitting there. Hasn't moved. Hasn't made a sound. Other than her heartbeat and breathing; I would be quite concerned if I couldn't hear that.

I get up and leave the room. She still doesn't move. I make my way to the kitchen and make her some oats. Walking back to her room I grab a notebook and pen as I pass them. I have a feeling that I might need them.

Entering the room, I see that she still hasn't moved. She still looks like she's waiting. She pays no mind to me as I walk past her to the small table and place the oats down. However, when I place the notebook and pen down, she looks at me then at the table. Where she then tilts her head before returning to her original position.

Scanning her once more my eyes fall on the claw marks I left on her arm. I dislike the fact that I hurt her. Not only Eric, but I dislike the fact that I hurt her.

"Sorry about that." Pointing at her arm.

She looks at me briefly then looks to her arm. She studies the wound. Looking back to me she shrugs her shoulders and returns to her position once more. Unbothered by it.

"There are some oats here for you. You're going to eat them. And you're going to talk."

She merely gives me a death stare. This angers me but I must remember that she is not a wolf. She does not live by the same rules we do. I must have patience. Walking up to her, I give her the bowl. Without resistance she takes it and the spoon.

So, she's willing to eat. But isn't willing to talk. Strange.

Digging the spoon into the oats, she lifts a generous spoon full to her mouth. Once in her mouth, she chews slowly. Not in the way one would if they were trying to savour the taste. No. She chewed it slowly like one would if they were giving something truly disgusting but still ate it to be polite. She swallows. She's sad? I can feel her sadness? She almost looks like she's about to cry. What could make her so sad? She starts banging the back of her head on the wall. Not hard but not soft either. It angers Eric. It both angers and concerns me. I'm about to tell her off. But she stops. Looking at the ceiling, she sighs.

"Come on you got to eat. Eat or die. You dying won't do anything for anyone. *Sigh* Just eat." She whispers to herself.

Grabbing the bowl once more, she takes another spoon full. Slowly finishing it before taking another.

"So, you can talk."

She looks at me slightly shocked. Almost like she forgot that I was here. Probably did. She gives me another death look, taking another spoon full of oats. I bite my tongue as I wait for her to finish. She takes her right royal time doing so.

After finishing the oats, she gets up and walks to the table. Placing the bowl down, she studies the notebook and pen. Picking them up, she moves back to her spot on the bed. I can see the pen start to move but nothing else.

I'm curious "What are you writing?"

She gives no answer. I walk up to her. She instantly holds the book to her chest; not wanting me to see its contents.

I find that frustrating.

I sit on the bed, being mindful not to be too close."You know if I wanted to. I could take that book from you in a split second."

She just gives me a look. A look I can't quite explain. Like she's daring me to, but biting her tongue at the same time.

"Why don't you want to talk?"

Again, she gives me no answer. She just continues with whatever she was doing before.

"It's not that you don't want to talk. You just don't want to talk to people. Why is that?"

She just continues to study her page.

"Ignoring an Alpha is not very good for you."
With that, she looks up. Looks me straight in the eye.

Very few people would dare to look at me straight in the eye. But she doesn't seem to care. And it doesn't anger me?

In fact, I enjoy it? I enjoy it a lot. But that's cut short when I see the anger and sadness swirling inside her eyes.

She carefully tears the page she was working on, folds it neatly and places it under her thigh. She starts writing something on the new page and hands it to me.

'I don't wish to talk for my words would betray me. Leading me to go backwards.' Written in her handwriting. It's not the most elegant writing that I've ever seen, but it's not too messy either. Eric seems to like her handwriting. I find that amusing. A wolf liking someone's handwriting.

"Then why not eat?" hanging the book back to her.
She writes on the piece of paper and hands it back to me again.
'Well, for one I don't deserve it.'

I take my time. Time to look at her (most likely with a confused face). Trying to find a reason as to why? I don't find one."Why wouldn't you deserve it?"

'That is for me to know, friend.'

I growl at her.

I actually growled at her.

She just gives me a blank face. No fear. Most would tremble at my growl; human or otherwise.

"Why are you not afraid?" giving her a questioned look.

I must have moved closer because she moved away.

'If you wanted me dead, I would be.'

Her plain but wise answer struck me. Struck me quite hard, to be honest. I remove myself from the bed and paced the room.

Now it's her turn to look at me questionably.

'How could she think that we would kill her for no reason?'

'We would never harm her!'

I come to a standstill when it dawns on me.
"I suppose we gave you no reason to think otherwise. After all, we did try to kill you, when you first entered the pack."

She tilts her head at me before writing in the book again.

'It's not your fault. I did trespass into your territory. Which is a big no-no.' Giving me what I believe to be a sympathetic look.

I sit back down on the bed. I'm trying to understand her.

"Why did you cross our border?"

She sits there silent and unmoving. She seems to be thinking. "Chris. But also, not Chris. I needed to be here. I need Chris. And Chris will need me. But that doesn't really explain why I'm here. I could have called him. I just needed to be here. I don't really know why or for how long. I just need to be here." Her voice harsh from both, not talking for so long and sadness.

Eric finds sense in her words. As if he knows something she doesn't. Something I don't.

There's silence between us for a moment.

"You spoke"

She nods.

"You spoke to me. Why?"

'Not really sure. I do know that those words needed to be spoken. Didn't need to be heard by anyone. Certainly not you.'

So, we're back to this. For some reason, I find myself a little hurt by that? But I won't let that be seen.

"Oh." Nodding my head."If it wasn't for Chris would you have starved yourself?"

'No. I did it for Chris so he wouldn't have to worry about me. I did it for that doctor that seems to care for me. I did it for the doctor's wife. She may have given me a dirty look each time she saw me. But under all that, she was just someone that was worried for her husband. I must have been cursing some sort of trouble for the Alpha to come and see me. So, I did it to stop whatever that was. I really don't mean to be a hassle. It's just, I can't help the way I feel. If it was really up to me and it didn't affect anyone. I would eat the bare minimum to sustain life.'

I scrunch up the piece of paper in my hands. Why? Just, why? WHY!?

"Why toucher yourself?" trying my hardest not to shout at her. Unfortunately, anger still comes out in my tone.

With a plain face, she gives me a piece of paper and walks into the bathroom, locking the door.

'Right now, that is what I need.' The paper reads.

What she needs? Needs?

'Tear down that door now!' Eric, angry again.

'Eric, leave the girl alone.' looking at the place she once sat. I was closer than I realised. Why was I so close to her?

Finding the folded piece of paper. I pick it up and stare at it.

'Don't Alx.' Eric warns.
'What could she be hiding?'
'Alx put the paper down!'
'It's just a piece of paper.'
'She doesn't want us to see it.'
'Since when did you care?'
'She's-' before Eric could finish; I open the piece of paper. Illustrations of roses, lilies and other flowers I can't name, fill the corners of the page. Some are incomplete when compared to others. But all truly works of art. There is some text in the centre.

'Dear Dad and Mom.
I miss you. I know it hasn't been long. But I still miss you. Sometimes I find myself wanting to join you. Now Dad, before you get all angry. And before Mom starts crying her eyes out. Please know that I won't. I promised you that I won't. And I won't leave Chris. I won't do that to him. But even as I'm saying this in my mind it doesn't change the fact that it's a struggle to stay here. Hell, I don't even have the courage to talk to Chris. It infuriates him. I need to stop being so selfish. Oddly the only thing that's helping me right now, are these wounds. Having something to tend to, helps. Plainly thinking about the task helps. Battling myself not to scratch them open stops me from thinking about the things that I am now. I'm sorry. I'm really just so sorry.
Love your daughter.' the ink is smudged in some places where tears fell to the page.

She cried.

And I did even notice.

Why does that hurt?

'You shouldn't have read that.'
'No. Maybe I shouldn't have.' Folding the piece of paper back up and placing it right where it was before I intervened.

"I'll be going." Razing my voice a little so she could hear me as I leave the room.

'Go back.'
'Shut up, Eric.'