"𝓂𝒶𝓂𝓂𝒶 𝓂𝒾𝒶, 𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝓌ℯ 𝑔ℴ 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃"

Ophelia had dealt with death her entire life. The girl had been surrounded by it from birth. She didn't know what life was like without it. First, it had been her birth parents. Although, she had only been a baby then, so perhaps that's why she didn't have much recollection of the car crash she had miraculously survived.

At six years old, she had been the cause of death for her adopted parents. In Ophelia's defence, she absolutely hated them. No, hate wasn't strong enough. It never was and never would be. There would never be a word to accurately describe the emotions she held for the couple. To trigger the curse of her werewolf gene, she had to kill someone, accidental or not, or to be at the scene of a death. Because her parents weren't instantly taken to the afterlife on impact in the car crash, she was never with them at their side while they passed away. Up until the gene was triggered, the cursed would experience heightened mood swings around the time of a full moon, uncontrollable anger and violent tendencies, and an enhanced collection of abilities ranging from strength to hearing.

In Ophelia's advantage, her adoptive parents had no clue about what their 'child' was going through. They never cared enough to ask, but it's not like she would tell them what she was experiencing even if they did. Which mean that the night where her adoptive father struck her arm with the belt a little too harshly, the full moon meant far less to them than it should have. Ophelia struck back in retaliation, finally shoving him back with an inhumane amount of strength and grabbing a nearby kitchen knife to stab the man over and over again until she was blinded by the blood coating her eyelashes. Her so called 'mother'? Well, she was just collateral damage. A good collateral damage, because it would've happened sooner or later, anyways.

Taken in by an Original vampire didn't make things any easier. The creatures literally survived off blood. Which meant that after a year or so of living with Niklaus Mikaelson, seeing a body drop to the floor meant nothing of significance to Ophelia. She had become so numb to the idea of death that she was neither bothered or unbothered by it. Hell, she wasn't even part vampire herself by then.

Death is her living.

Which in a truthful way, it really is. Vampires have to die to become their true selves, so she is walking around as a dead, rotting soul. Her heart still beats, her blood still pumps, she still functions as a normal human being; the only difference being is that she had actually died.

Every time someone close to Ophelia passed away, whether that was Finn back in Mystic Falls, any of her siblings being temporarily incapacitated by a dagger dipped with White Oak, or even a rare friend, she never properly grieved. Grief is meant to be dealt with through the seven different stages. Throughout the seventeen years that she had been alive, the girl had maybe dealt with one, or two of the stages at most. Each time, she got stuck on the same damn one. Denial. Ophelia became so good at avoiding the matter of the significant deaths occurring around her that she eventually just moved on. Of course, she never really moved on. Kol is just another death that will never properly sink in.

Based upon what Freya had been telling her, the witch and Rebekah had promised to find ways to resurrect him. So, that gave the hybrid an immense amount of hope. Hope is a dangerous thing. Especially when the promise isn't as realistic as it's dealt out to be. To give Ophelia hope is like making a deal with Lucifer herself. It either goes exceptionally well, or catastrophically wrong. Most of the Mikaelson family had been around to see both. They'd seen enough of the latter outcomes to know that it's in everyone's best interest to avoid that from happening as much as they possibly can. If there really isn't a way to bring Kol back... Klaus didn't even want to think about what his sister could come to be.

"Ophelia. Ophelia!"

Blinking quickly, the girl snaps herself out of the daydream she had found herself in and her eyes dart over to the front of the classroom. Despite the countless suggestions to stay home from, well, everyone who knew about him, she had dragged herself along to school. The one place she hates more than anything. Stiles had asked to check for her temperature upon arrival. "Sorry," she mumbles in apology.

Jennifer Blake nods. Her heartrate increases as soon as she meets the green irises of the seventeen year old girl who had so heartlessly slaughtered the werewolf from the other night. "It's all right. Do you need to go to the nurse's office?"

Ophelia's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she straightens up in her chair. "No, sorry, why would I?"

The woman stumbles over her words, unable to form a coherent sentence. "I, uh, I- never mind."

When Jennifer walks back toward the blackboard, Lydia leans forward slightly over her desk to whisper to her friend seated in front. "I don't need to hear her heart to know she's fucking terrified of you."

At this, her lips curl into a satisfied smirk. "Good! She should be terrified to know I'll kill her if she hurts Der Bear." Even after learning Derek and Jennifer are having... relations... it doesn't change how Ophelia still despises her English teacher. She still doesn't have an actual reason just yet, but then again, does she really need a valid reason to hate someone?

Just out the corner of her eye, she can see Scott roll his eyes. "Fi, please don't let her hear you say that," he whispers. The response he receives is a middle finger sent his way, causing him to cover his eyes in defeat and sigh.

"Idioms, analogies, metaphors, and similes..." Jennifer turns back to the class with a small, rather awkward smile on her face, and begins to walk up and down the rows to check on her students' work progress so far in the lesson. "All the tools the writer uses to tell their story." She stops by Lydia and her brows raise in surprise at whatever is being drawn in the notebook. "Lydia, I wasn't aware you had so many hidden talents...?"

Humming in agreement, the girl in question looks up from her book and makes brief eye contact with their teacher. "You and every guy I've ever dated."

Ophelia loudly snorts and purses her lips tightly together to avoid laughter leaving them when she realises majority of the class is now looking at her. Lydia bites onto her lip, a smile making its way onto her face at how she had managed to bring her friend a moment of happiness, even though it was only for a few seconds.

Jennifer clears her throat to try and pass off Lydia's response. "Oh. Um, well, that was an idiom by the way..." Whilst speaking, her eyes subtly move between Ophelia, Stiles, and Scott; the latter two uncomfortably shifting in their seats, while the girl stares back with a blank gaze. Swallowing dryly from nerves, Miss Blake makes a mental note to avoid any and all future confrontation with Ophelia Stone. "Idioms are something of a secret to the people who know the language or the culture. They're phrases that only make sense if you know key words."

"This is so boring," Ophelia whispers to herself. She unsheathes a claw to begin engraving into the surface of her desk and makes a pointed effort to ignore the wide eyes Scott gives her to stop. He places his head into his hands when he hears her low growl. What's an added charge of property damage in the larger scheme of things?

Since the pack had learnt of the death within the Mikaelson family earlier that day, they had been walking on eggshells around their friend throughout the halls of the high school. Even more so than normally. They're all (more so Scott) worried that she would explode at any given second, exactly like a ticking time bomb. Which is exactly what she is, a bomb. Despite telling them that she's fine and there's nothing to worry about, Ophelia had been unconsciously making it painfully obvious to everyone around her that things are in fact not fine.

"Saying 'jump the gun' is meaningful only if you know about starting gun in a race," Jennifer continues. "Or a phrase like, 'seeing the whole board.'"

"Like chess," Stiles quietly comments.

Stopping to look at him, Miss Blake nods in agreement and a small smile pulls at her lips. "That's right, Stiles. Do you play?"

He clears his throat. "Uh, no. My father does."

"Awkward," Ophelia drawls out in a low tone. Lydia quietly chuckles in amusement and returns to her notebook.

Jennifer quickly breaks eye contact from Stiles, clearly very uncomfortable but she plays it off with another smile. "Now, when does an idiom become a cliché...?"

As the woman returns to the front of the class and stops at the blackboard, Scott tunes out her words, thinking about the much more important topic that is definitely on everyone else's minds as well as his own. "Guys," he whispers. He immediately has Ophelia's eyes locked onto the side of his face, although it takes Stiles just a little longer. "Stiles," Scott repeats impatiently. Still, the boy is twirling his pen between his fingers, completely unaware of the conversation. "Stiles."

His ears suddenly open and his head whips around to look at his friend loudly hissing for his attention. "Wha-what? What?"

"Calm down, no one's died," the blonde murmurs back. "Yet. No one's died, yet." Scott sighs at her insinuation and turns further in his chair so he can lean over to speak to Stiles seated on the other side of Ophelia. Similarly, the Stilinski also leans over so his body is just about pressed up against the girl's. She shakes her head. "Dude, seriously? Why the fuck am I in the middle anyways? Let's just swap."

Nodding in agreement, Stiles quickly pushes her out of the chair and slips behind her desk. Realising what he's just done, his eyes close in apprehension. "Aw, shit." Looking down to see Ophelia glaring up at him from the floor while she returns to his previous chair, he offers her an apologetic smile. "... Sorry?"

"Whatever," she grumbles. Thankfully, Miss Blake hasn't noticed the abrupt change of seating, or if she does, she doesn't have the guts to comment on it and risk starting an argument.

"Okay, I think I can get to Ethan," Scott begins, drawing his friends' attention away from their petty bickering and to the matter at hand. "I'm pretty sure I can make him talk."

Ophelia rolls her eyes at the confidence he holds. "Scott, really? No, you can't," she denies bluntly. "I, on the other hand, definitely can. It's called torture. I was thinking about starting off wi-"

"God, no!" Scott cuts her off exasperatedly. He slumps down in his seat when realising his voice had risen a little too loudly. "No," he hisses. "We are not torturing him."

Stiles purses his lips together and shrugs. "I don't know, man... It's a good idea."

"No!" The werewolf states again firmly.

Keeping his voice at a whisper, Stiles backtracks to the initial point of the conversation. "Hold on, why do we want to talk to Ethan?"

"The Druids are Emissaries, right? So, what if the Darach was an Emissary to the Alphas?"

Ophelia hadn't been privy to the conversation Scott had held with Gerard at the nursing home a few days prior. Instead, she had gotten a run-down from her friend on what had been talked about. The Druids were thrown out every now and again, which led to Scott explaining that some of the 'wanna-be witches' hold the responsibilities to be Emissaries to certain packs, like an advisor or a guide to werewolves. She learnt that Deaton had once been an Emissary to Derek's mother's pack, and how Marin Morrell is presently one for Deucalion and his remaining lackeys.

"Okay, first of all," Stiles starts. "I cannot believe we've gotten to the point where a sentence like, 'What if the Darach was an Emissary to the Alphas?' actually makes sense to me."

Ophelia snickers. "Neither."

"Second of all, we're gonna have a huge problem getting to Ethan."

She raises her eyebrows at Stiles' observation, but she stays silent whilst Scott questions back, "What's that?"

"Going through Aiden," the Stilinski finishes grimly. The quiet clear of her throat almost immediately makes him cover his hands with his face. He knows Ophelia well enough at this point to know exactly what's running through her mind currently.

"I can help with that part," she adds in gleefully, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Scott's eyes narrow once he catches on to what she's alluding to. "I'll kill him, so then you have a clear path to Ethan! One down, one to go!"

Now, Scott's the one to place his head into his hands. It's honestly a miracle Jennifer Blake hasn't stopped to focus on the three of her students who look like they could be acting in a soap opera based on the various gestures and facial expressions they're making. "All right, wait, stop. Are you sure you haven't lost your humanity again?"

She seems taken aback and perhaps a little offended at the assumption. "What? No! This is just me, wolfie. Get used to it."

Stiles huffs a sigh after contemplating whether he should voice his opinion or not. "Okay, I hate to say it, but she might be right." Spotting the absolute horror that flashes across Scott's face, he finishes with, "Not the killing part. Maybe she can just... incapacitate him for a little while."

Drumming her palms on her desk, Ophelia grins triumphantly. "Done. Deal."

As she pushes her chair back, Stiles grabs onto her wrist in confusion. "What are you doing? Class isn't over..."

"I'm going to go kil- knock out Aiden. Just like we said I would."

Before either one of the boys can protest, she grabs her bag and runs out the door, leaving Miss Blake heavily confused. "Ophelia-" The woman sighs and shakes her head briefly. She looks out to her class. "You all realise that school isn't optional, right?" A few seconds later, a blur of strawberry blonde hair follows suit after the teenager who has stopped in the hallway outside upon sensing her best friend running after her. "Lydia!"

Cracking a grin, Ophelia holds her arm out for her friend to loop them together. "Joining me to help fuck up your boyfriend?"

Rolling her eyes fondly, Lydia glances to her only to hum in disapproval at part of the sentence. "Firstly, he's not my boyfriend. Secondly... It wouldn't be completely terrible if your fist just so happened to land on his face."

With a laugh, the hybrid pulls her friend down the hall to go on the journey to find one of the Steiner twins. "That's my girl."

As they pass through a group of students making their way outside, Coach's yells follow the teenagers disappearing through the door. "If you don't have your collective asses outside in the next ten seconds, you'll all be running laps for the rest of your damn lives! If that doesn't kill you, I will!"

"I don't think I've ever loved someone as much as him," Ophelia says with a giggle. Her smile quickly drops when she looks over to Lydia. "Apart from you, obviously. Oh, how did you know I was going to Aiden?"

"Seriously? You guys were talking so loudly, I'm surprised the entire fucking class didn't hear."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong. It's not 'you guys,' it's Stiles and Scott. Not me."

Lydia purses her lips together and gives her friend a look. "No, it's all of you." Ophelia's mouth closes before she can retort something, a threatening growl replacing any words she had planned on saying. Lydia sighs and grabs onto the girl's hand, grounding her by squeezing their fingers together in a pattern. "Breathe, okay? We're going to do this calmly, then you can punch him."

She sucks in a deep breathand curtly nods, her eyes never once leaving the figure of the person they're looking for. "Yep, nice and calm..."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"What the fuck? What the hell was that for?" Aiden stumbles back through the open doorway of Coach's office, his hands clutching onto his face as the stream of crimson blood trickles down from his nose.

Ophelia smiles innocently and leans her back against the doorframe, her eyes meeting Lydia's briefly as she enters after and shuts the door, closing the three inside. "Well, there's multiple reasons, mate. One, I hate you. Two, I felt like it. Three... I can't find a three right now, but I'll get back to you."

The Alpha's eyes widen and he quickly breaks out of the aftershock of the hit to take a step forward to her with his fangs baring. "You bitch-"

"Aiden," Lydia speaks up. She sets a hand on his shoulder to place herself in between the two pissed off supernatural creatures. Instantly, his eyes meet hers, and his demeanour softens ever so slightly. "We just want to talk, that's all."

He cautiously looks over to Ophelia, and she tilts her head to the side in agreement. "Sure. What she said." It's obvious her words do little to reassure him.

Letting her eyes move across his face, Lydia's lips purse together as she takes a step back from him and folds her arms over her chest. "What's that look for?"

Acutely aware of the death glare being sent his way, Aiden tries to ignore Ophelia and shakes his head at the girl. "Nothing, I'm just kind of surprised... You've barely talked to me since-"

"Since what? Since all of you tried to kill Isaac, Boyd, and Derek again? Oh, sorry! I'm missing the part on how you all let my best friend almost get murdered."

Ophelia's lips threaten to twitch into a smile at how confidently she argues back. "Thanks for the defence, love, but you know I wouldn't have let her kill me. And you? Like I said a few days ago, you're all looking really obsessed with us at this point."

He sighs heavily, his gaze moving between the two before settling back onto Lydia. "I told you, that was Kali's choice. I didn't and still don't have a say."

Lydia's eyebrows pinch together as she sends her friend a confused glance. "I thought you were all Alphas."

"Yeah, well, it's not as democratic as it sounds."

Ophelia chuckles. "No, shit. Probably should've thought about that before you joined the 'Demon Wolf.'"

Keeping his eyes on Lydia, Aiden adds, "And if you're thinking we should be all filled with remorse, try and remember..." He jerks his head in the direction of the hybrid, a scowl painting across his face before he voices his next point. "She killed Ennis."

She rolls her eyes and fiddles with the silver bangle around her wrist as she restrains herself from punching him a second time. For Lydia's sake. "All right, he killed me first, so he deserved it."

"What about Kali?"

Lydia gives the male a look of warning, something that he doesn't notice or most likely just ignores. Ophelia brings her bottom lip between her teeth and ponders just how far she can push him until he snaps. "She deserved that, too. Come on, Aiden, it's not like you're all fucking saints either. Each of you killed your packs to become Alphas-"

Suddenly curious, he narrows his eyes at her. "And what about you, Ophelia, did you kill your pack?"

Aware of how Lydia is now closely watching her, she doesn't need to worry about feeling guilty of how the girl might react. "Never had one," she states honestly.

His face drops in surprise. "If you've never had one, why aren't you an Omega? How are you still an Alpha?"

Her lips twist into a smile. "I'll put it into perspective for you, shall I?" Raising one hand into the air with her palm up, "Werewolves, predators." Raising the other hand into the air, "Vampires, apex predators. Following so far? Now, then come the bloody hybrids, wonderful creatures if I don't say so myself. They're the apex of apex fucking predators. We're the royalty of the supernatural world. Not that I wasn't already."

Both teenagers are listening attentively, equally just as interested as the other; although Aiden definitely wouldn't admit this aloud. Lydia voices the question she has had on her mind since she had discovered how an Alpha is come to be. "So, did you kill someone, then?"

"Gonna have to be more specific with that question, love."

"I mean, did you kill someone to become an Alpha?"

"No. There are multiple ways to become an Alpha in my world," she clarifies with a small smile. Ophelia notices how her best friend releases a breath of relief that is almost unnoticeable. She supresses her smile. "The first one is what you both know, kill one and you take the power and the title for yourself. Some can challenge the Alpha for the title: seen it happen, rarely works and I don't recommend. Then, there's what I had."

Aiden's eyes widen slowly as his posture straightens up in alarm. "Wait, you're not a True Alpha, are you?"

The term immediately causes her to laugh. Genuinely laugh. Being mentioned in the same sentence as a True Alpha is hilarious to her. "No, you idiot. Of course not." She shakes her head, unable to comprehend how he could have even come to assume it in the first place. "You can become an Alpha by gaining respect from your pack, so they appoint you as their leader."

The room falls silent, followed by a sigh.

"All right, I've been lying. I had a pack, once. My brother was my Alpha for a little bit until he, well, I guess he handed half of the pricks over to me. So, I had a bunch of hybrids, and he had his own. The respect thing comes into play because most of them were scared shitless of me; it helps being part of a family of Originals." She smiles softly, and to the two beside her, she looks like she's stuck in a memory for a brief moment. "Anyways. When we all disbanded the club, long story short... we had to kill them, one pesky fucker got away, and so I never lost the power. You would be correct to guess they were part of my pack. So, Klaus lost his Alpha title, and I kept mine."

Lydia raises a brow at the statement, admittedly finding it hard to believe that the man she had met the other day would be content with being of a lower status to the girl one thousand years younger than him, family or not. "He's okay with it?"

"Yep. Okay, this is getting far too personal and I'm feeling pretty vain with how much I'm talking about myself."

Aiden nods in understanding. "Makes sense, I guess."

Clasping her hands together, Ophelia stands up off Coach's chair she had found herself in and looks to Lydia. "You reckon that's been long enough of a distraction?"

Shrugging in agreement, the girl nods, both not privy to the confusion appearing on Aiden's face. "You gonna knock him out?"

Hesitating, Ophelia studies the way the werewolf subtly shrinks away from her, his heartbeat suddenly jumping out of fear. "You know what, I reckon he's had enough physical abuse for today. Scram."

"Very mature of you," Lydia mutters quietly as he sends her a glance before quickly making his way over to the door.

"I just can't be bothered dealing with two even more pissed off twins than already," she reasons.

Right before Aiden can open the door, the silence in the room is broken like a bone being cleanly snapped in half. A sharp nail scratches into the frosted glass pane of the door. But looking closer at it, it's definitely not just a nail... It belongs to a werewolf. The claw continues to mark the glass until the shape resembles a spiral, something that Ophelia quickly recognises to be the Hale's pack symbol. "What the fuck is that?" Lydia quietly queries.

"Derek," the two reply in unison. The difference between the two is that Aiden is visibly angered, where Ophelia is simply just annoyed.

Groaning in exasperation, the hybrid sighs at the dramatic way to get someone's attention. "'Mamma Mia, here we go again.'"

Growling, Aiden wrenches open the door to step out into the boy's locker room that is vacant of any lingering students. "Derek?"

"Fuck me, don't go out-" Ophelia cuts herself off with a sigh. She drags a hand down the side of her face as she knows she'll be the one to have to fix whatever is about to kick off.

Lydia is considerably more worried than her friend, her expression pleading for the boy to stay out of harm's way. "Aiden, stop," she begs. "Please."

He continues to ignore their warnings, his eyes darting around the locker room with the hopes that he'll find the Hale. "I'm right here, Derek!"

Lydia grabs onto his arm tightly, her eyes narrowing as she whispers, "I'll scream..."

"You want a fight, Derek? Come and get me!"

Right at the last minute, Ophelia realises that Derek isn't here like they had initially assumed. Which if she thinks about it, really isn't surprising. Of course, he wouldn't get his hands dirty himself if he had the chance. He's got his Beta wolves who would be more than happy to come and send a threat if needed. Cora just so happens to be that person. Barrelling into the side of his body, Cora tackles the Steiner to the side and forcefully slams him up against one of the lockers. With a vicious snarl leaving her lips, her claws begin to tear through Aiden's shirt as she slashes the delicate skin of his torso.

"Fi, do something," Lydia whispers pleadingly. Ophelia takes one look at her friend, and as much as the girl is trying to keep her fear below the surface, it's obvious that she is frightened for Aiden's life.

With his skin now stained a deep, violent red compared to the usual pale, Cora goes for another swipe. Her wrist is caught in the air. Aiden roars loudly, his canines on full display and eyes glowing as brilliant rubies. "I think he's about to do something," the blonde answers blankly.

Keeping his grip on her wrist, Aiden's other hand shoots out to find a place around Cora's throat, instantly managing to cut off her oxygen supply. Ophelia clenches her jaw as she watches the Hale fight to breathe. Without warning, she is tossed across the room to knock a few of the sinks off the tiled wall. Cora lands on the floor groaning in pain and clutching her head. Rolling her shoulders back, Ophelia readies herself to step in and stop Aiden from doing any serious damage. Derek would kill her if something permanent happened to his sister on her watch. She doesn't want to die today.

Keeping her eyes trained on Aiden's figure, Ophelia feels her fangs elongate inside her mouth as she slowly stalks forward while he picks up a weight. With Cora's pained groans in her ear, she doesn't need to look up as Lydia calls out in terror, "Aiden, stop! Stop!"

Right before he can smack it across Cora's face and gift her with a nasty concussion, potentially something more, Ophelia closes the distance between them and grabs onto the weight. A pair of red eyes meet her own and she stares at him with little emotion in her expression. "Let go, or I will do the exact same as you plan to do to her to you." Even though his own grip loosens slightly, he still refuses to hand it over, blinded by the aggression from being ambushed. "Now." Rolling her eyes when he refuses to budge, she shortly sighs. "Fine, this is on you."

Her free hand plunges inside of his chest and her fingers loosely wrap around his beating heart. The weight clatters onto the floor, now long forgotten by both parties. Aiden's chest heaves up and down as his wide eyes stare at her in utter shock.

Even though it hadn't been that long at all since she had last taken a life, Ophelia had been deprived of violence for too long than is healthy for her mental stability. Now, being given the opportunity to easily murder the boy that has given her so much grief, the desire to kill clouds over any remaining rational thoughts circling in her mind. So much so, she can't hear the frantic calls of Lydia from behind her, pleading her desperately to stop. All she can hear is the rhythmic, cathartic thumping of his heart, and the incredibly intoxicating smell of his blood flooding every fibre of her being.

Only when a hand slaps across her cheek is she taken out of whatever dazed state she is in. "Ophelia! What the hell are you doing?" Scott yells, quickly dropping the volume of his voice when he realises how shaken she now is. "I said not to kill him!"

Glancing over to her victim, her eyes widen slightly as she watches Aiden being comforted by his brother, distanced from her claws and fangs. "Shit." She then finds Lydia who is standing by her side in... concern?

"Are you okay?" The girl asks softly as she rushes over to grab a paper towel to wet it with water. She starts to clean the blood off her friend's hand, her eyes occasionally flicking up to check her face. "Lia, are you okay?"

"What?" Ophelia repeats. She's thoroughly confused as to why the prominent emotion in Lydia is concern instead of anger. She had been so close to murdering Aiden. She at least deserves a good bitch-slap. She isn't aware of the look her three friends share. It had been a while since they had seen her lose herself like that. It was like for a few brief seconds Ophelia lost her sanity. Not like her non-humanity self, more like she was here but not exactly here. Some would say she's insane. Perhaps she is. "I-I'm fine, sorry." She notices how not only Scott and Ethan are here, but so is Stiles. "Cora," she remembers in alarm. She rushes over beside the injured girl slumped on the ground and surveys her body for all the injuries.

"She came at me!" Aiden's voice booms in rage.

The group comforting Cora look up to the conversation being held between the twins. "It doesn't matter!" Ethan replies with just as much force. "Derek has until the next full moon. You can't touch him, or her."

Ophelia's forehead creases in worry as Cora is barely able to hold her body weight up and she moves to help her stand. She positions herself in a way so that if either one of the twins would possibly try something again, they would have to go through her first. Although by the gaping wound in Aiden's chest that continues to heal, alongside his pained expression, it doesn't look like anything else would be occurring today. Scott gives Ethan a look, silently asking him to let it go and to leave them. Throwing an arm around his brother, the boy nods and pulls Aiden out of the room, not before the latter can throw Ophelia a distasteful glance. She gives a patronising smile as she watches him stumble out.

Helping support Cora up from the other side, Stiles clears his throat. "Hey, guys, I think she's pretty hurt."

Cora takes the paper towel that Ophelia offers her and walks over to one of the remaining sinks to wash the gash on her forehead. She winces when the water hits her skin. "Are you okay?" Scott asks her gently.

"Of course she's not," Ophelia retorts. "Look at her!" She checks herself and swallows as she meets eyes with the girl in the cracked mirror. "I'm so sorry-"

Cora looks between the four through the mirror and attempts to roll her eyes. "It's fine, I'll heal," she cuts the blonde off. However, as she takes a step back, she stumbles. Rushing forward, Ophelia and Stiles go to take either side of her once again, only for her to hold up her hand and stop them. "I said, I'm fine."

Raising her wrist up to her mouth, Ophelia is once again stopped by a hand lightly resting on her elbow. "Cora, come on, at least let me heal you."

"I said, I'm fine," she snaps angrily, growing increasingly aggravated by the attention. "I don't want your help, I don't want your blood, and I don't want your concern." Blinking at the outburst, the green-eyed girl nods, and steps away to give her some distance.

"Do you realise how fucking psychotic that was?" Stiles questions incredulously. "What were you thinking, going after them?"

Cora's eyes narrow and she scoffs quietly. "I did it because none of you are doing anything!"

Now, it's Ophelia's turn to scoff. "All right, I've killed a few people, thank you very much!"

Scott softly sighs. "We're trying-"

"And you're failing," she retorts once more. "You're all just a bunch of stupid teenagers, running around, thinking that you can stop people from being killed." She looks to Ophelia, then to Lydia. "But all you're doing is being the cause of majority of those bodies and showing up late to find the ones that really matter."

When she turns her back on everyone and storms out the bathroom as best as she can, the Stone shakes her head, her posture relaxing as she feels Lydia slip her hand into her own. The remark had been directed toward the two girls, each of them feeling a slight pang in their hearts at Cora's words.

"She's definitely a Hale," Stiles says after a few moments, trying to lighten the mood. "I'll make sure she gets home."

Ophelia finally sighs, the exhaustion of not having any blood for the day catching up to her. Maybe it's mental exhaustion. "Yeah, I'm done for the day, so I'm going home, too."

Scott nods. Himself and Lydia share a look, communicating that they agree on her going home to spend time with her family. After all, her brother had just died. Finding a way to resurrect him was far more important than going to physics. "See you later, Fi."

After the werewolf leaves the locker room, the females are left alone with one another. "I know you said you're okay, but are you okay?" Lydia questions once more, playing with her friend's fingers in their entwined hands.

Inhaling an unsteady breath, Ophelia nods. "Yeah, I- No. No, Lyds, I'm not."

Lydia's face falls when her voice cracks. Once a tear drops, she moves in front of the girl and places a finger under her chin to lock their eyes with one another. "Hey," she soothes. "If it's about getting carried away with Aiden, we can talk about it later..."

"I just, I'm not sure what's going on with me at the moment," she mutters. Her eyes screw shut when she feels the burning sensation of incoming tears once more. "I'm not me."

Frowning, Lydia wipes the second tear with the pad of her thumb. "Yes, you are, honey, you're just going through some shit at the moment that's making you feel like absolute crap."

Opening her eyes, Ophelia's bottom lip begins to wobble at the concern etched across her best friend's face. "Why don't you hate me?"

The shock that flashes across Lydia's face is brief, making the girl opposite her ponder whether she had even seen it at all. "Hate you? I would never hate you, why would you think that?" Her voice is filled with offence, completely taken aback to being presented with the question.

"After everything I've done, you're still here, standing by my side and asking me if I'm okay. Lydia, I am not a good person. I just tried to kill the guy that you've made abundantly clear you care for. I have murdered so many people this year, I couldn't give you a number. I-"

Her breath catches in her throat when she feels the touch of lips against her own, swiftly cutting off her rambling. It's a good thing, because she would've kept going on and on, probably ending up on the floor in the boy's locker room in a puddle of tears. Lydia stays still with her hand against Ophelia's flushed cheek, just allowing their lips to touch softly, not moving. Another tear falls down Ophelia's cheek as her eyes close. It's the comfort she needs right now amidst a moment of raw vulnerability, revealing a side of herself that rarely anybody is given the opportunity to see.

Allowing their foreheads rest gently against one another, Lydia shakes her head again to answer the question that had been posed to her a minute ago. "I could never hate you," she softly says. "I would never hate you, okay?"

Ophelia stares into the green eyes of her best friend, and after acknowledging to herself how she can't distinguish a lie, she nods. For once, someone isn't scared by her or of her. They aren't scared of the fangs and dark veins that come out in the shadows during the night, or the glowing eyes that show a level of monstrosity that should only be described inside children's stories and nightmares.

A smile stretches across her lips as she knows now that she has a forever friend in Lydia Martin.

𝘏𝘪 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴!

𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘰 𝘐'𝘮 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘓𝘺𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘖𝘧𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘖𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤, 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘩 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴.

𝘈𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 11 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘠 𝘚𝘓𝘖𝘞𝘓𝘠. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵 🫶

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴!
𝘓𝘪𝘷 𝘹𝘹