the beast you made of me [Lydia, gen]
Author: espressopotluck
Title:the beast you made of me
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Lydia, mentions of the pack
Summary: She hears them howling under the full moon, and she wants to join them.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 697
Prompt: #5- Temptation
Author's Notes: Hello, all. :) ♥
She hears them howling.
She told them that she was going to bed, and that's the truth of it; at least, the half-truth that seems to be her life now. She's forgotten a time when she wasn't caught up in a web of things only her eyes could see, pretending to be normal - pretending to be the girl she used to be before that night on the lacrosse pitch, before seeing maps in the stars and poison in flowers. She lies in bed and leaves her curtains open so she can stare up at the moon, and listens to them howl a chorus full of promises back and forth.
She can feel it echo through her bones. There's something about it, something resonant. It aches and trembles with the beating of her own heart, and she's not sad - she's not upset that she is the way she is, fully human and coherent. There's no reason for her to be unhappy about that fact, not after she spent days in a hospital recovering from unhealing wounds.
But she knows what they are saying. She can feel what they are saying, and maybe she can't hear it with her ears, maybe it's some other part of her. Maybe it's the part of her that she doesn't like to accept now, the bits that have been left behind: canines and boiling blood and memories of smoke and ash.
Lydia pushes herself up off the pillow and goes to the window.
The breeze carries their calls in to her. Left, they say, in an organized hunt deep within the trees that serves no purpose but to strengthen the pack and their bond together, to get out the aggression that's been building since the moon started to wax in the night sky. Work together, form a unit. Attack as one.
She knows she could draw them a better strategy. With claws and nail, she could scratch out a new future in the dirt and they would devour it, take the world whole. She can visualize their movements through the trees and the sharp edges, harsh lines - the way Derek is always two steps ahead of the rest, the way Scott hangs back and acts on instinct, the way Isaac nearly trips over his own paws with the rushing joy of freedom. Lydia could be there with them, in the heart of them, part of them, only she's not; she's standing at her window because she's caught between two worlds and can't reconcile with either.
Her all-too-human hands clench angrily at the window pane when she balls her fingers into fists and beats them lightly against the wood.
She shouldn't want to be out there.
She should want all the parts of her life that she was allowed to keep.
But the moon is round and full overhead, bathing the treetops with light, and Lydia can feel the hum of it. She hears the reverberating echo of the pack's hunting howls, Derek's commands and the resounding agreement that follows. She knows that if she screams for them now, they will hear her. If she screams for them now, they will come.
She thinks that if she calls to them, they will let her join them, because there's something of their blood running in her veins and no amount of scrubbing will take the paw prints off. She may not be one of them, but she's part of them. She has designer purses and a new car and $250 perfume, and she wants to be out there, running among the thick trunks of the trees and feeling the wind whip at her hair and cheeks.
Her heart hammers in time with the moon's siren wail.
Lydia presses her hands against the glass, tilting in until her forehead is leaving a filmy splash across the window, and breathes in deep.
One, two.
Then she leans out the window and turns her face up towards the sky, towards the past that she's been so pointlessly running from, towards the future that will carry her away from all the things she used to want.
Title:the beast you made of me
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Lydia, mentions of the pack
Summary: She hears them howling under the full moon, and she wants to join them.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 697
Prompt: #5- Temptation
Author's Notes: Hello, all. :) ♥
She hears them howling.
She told them that she was going to bed, and that's the truth of it; at least, the half-truth that seems to be her life now. She's forgotten a time when she wasn't caught up in a web of things only her eyes could see, pretending to be normal - pretending to be the girl she used to be before that night on the lacrosse pitch, before seeing maps in the stars and poison in flowers. She lies in bed and leaves her curtains open so she can stare up at the moon, and listens to them howl a chorus full of promises back and forth.
She can feel it echo through her bones. There's something about it, something resonant. It aches and trembles with the beating of her own heart, and she's not sad - she's not upset that she is the way she is, fully human and coherent. There's no reason for her to be unhappy about that fact, not after she spent days in a hospital recovering from unhealing wounds.
But she knows what they are saying. She can feel what they are saying, and maybe she can't hear it with her ears, maybe it's some other part of her. Maybe it's the part of her that she doesn't like to accept now, the bits that have been left behind: canines and boiling blood and memories of smoke and ash.
Lydia pushes herself up off the pillow and goes to the window.
The breeze carries their calls in to her. Left, they say, in an organized hunt deep within the trees that serves no purpose but to strengthen the pack and their bond together, to get out the aggression that's been building since the moon started to wax in the night sky. Work together, form a unit. Attack as one.
She knows she could draw them a better strategy. With claws and nail, she could scratch out a new future in the dirt and they would devour it, take the world whole. She can visualize their movements through the trees and the sharp edges, harsh lines - the way Derek is always two steps ahead of the rest, the way Scott hangs back and acts on instinct, the way Isaac nearly trips over his own paws with the rushing joy of freedom. Lydia could be there with them, in the heart of them, part of them, only she's not; she's standing at her window because she's caught between two worlds and can't reconcile with either.
Her all-too-human hands clench angrily at the window pane when she balls her fingers into fists and beats them lightly against the wood.
She shouldn't want to be out there.
She should want all the parts of her life that she was allowed to keep.
But the moon is round and full overhead, bathing the treetops with light, and Lydia can feel the hum of it. She hears the reverberating echo of the pack's hunting howls, Derek's commands and the resounding agreement that follows. She knows that if she screams for them now, they will hear her. If she screams for them now, they will come.
She thinks that if she calls to them, they will let her join them, because there's something of their blood running in her veins and no amount of scrubbing will take the paw prints off. She may not be one of them, but she's part of them. She has designer purses and a new car and $250 perfume, and she wants to be out there, running among the thick trunks of the trees and feeling the wind whip at her hair and cheeks.
Her heart hammers in time with the moon's siren wail.
Lydia presses her hands against the glass, tilting in until her forehead is leaving a filmy splash across the window, and breathes in deep.
One, two.
Then she leans out the window and turns her face up towards the sky, towards the past that she's been so pointlessly running from, towards the future that will carry her away from all the things she used to want.