"I’m not ready to be happy But if you would take my hand And lay me down so softly I think I’d make it out just fine”

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@penelopebeckett
"I’m not ready to be happy But if you would take my hand And lay me down so softly I think I’d make it out just fine”
"I want you so much But I hate your guts”
I Don't Want to be an Island || Penny & Oliver (closed)
Oliver didn’t know what, exactly, he was supposed to feel in this moment. Relief, sure. He hadn’t lost Penny. Grief; for all that he’d done and what it had and almost had cost him. Guilt that she felt she had to save him, or that she needed to be saved. He could at least assure her of one thing, “I promise you, Pen… I will never let anyone hurt you.” If she was worried about always having to look over her shoulder, he could at least ease that fear.
His hands trailed back from her cheeks and tangled into her hair. He couldn’t move his forehead away from hers. It was like this connection was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. His brown eyes gazed down at her, wishing that he could explain in some way or show her inside his mind. He knew this all had to be beyond difficult for her.
But then his eyes landed on her lips and the way she was biting down on it. Letting out a breath, his hands released her hair and pressed against the door behind her. He pulled his head back from her and let out another shaky breath. “I should… not kiss you again,” he said, more to himself than to her, “I already forced the first one on you. And… Probably better that we… Talk first.”
He was having an extremely hard time focusing. After the roller coaster of emotions they’d both been on today, he knew the worst thing he could do was try and pick up their physical relationship where it had left off. He didn’t have her trust anymore; and he’d have to earn it before he could… Well, take her to bed.
"I should also probably put some clothes on," he said, a smile touching his lips, "You okay to wait here while I change in the bathroom?" The last thing he wanted to do was separate from her; especially to go to a bathroom. Mostly because he’d been in the shower when she’d packed up and left last time and, despite his deserving it, it still scarred him a little.
But maybe being in a different room for a minute would help him shake the ridiculously strong urge to kiss her until her lips were swollen.
Truthfully, Penny was becoming increasingly concerned with Oliver's lack of clothing, but she was quite convinced that maybe, if she just kept her eyes shut tight it just would stop becoming a problem and he wouldn't have to go anywhere. Of course, that would never work. She had always been very acutely aware of Oliver's body heat, especially at this proximity. "Mmhm," she nodded, slowly retracting her hands from their points of contact, moving them instead to wrap around her stomach. She hadn't really known what she was agreeing to, but as her eyes fluttered back open to meet his gaze, she knew she couldn't trust herself, nor him, to remain unclothed. "It's nothing I haven't seen before," Penny pointed out, without even realizing the meaning behind her words, her gaze accidentally moving down his torso to the towel wrapped loose and low at his waist. Even as she looked away to run her hands back over her windswept bangs, she could still feel a low rumble of a growl emanating in her chest. Life wasn't very fair, but it was just cruel when it came in the form of Oliver Raskoph. Penny swallowed against the feeling of her mouth literally turning into the Sahara, and if she tried hard enough, she could focus on the ugly pattern of the carpet to help ease how badly her desire still pooled for the man she was only just beginning to try and trust again.
I Don't Want to be an Island || Penny & Oliver (closed)
Oliver had been waging an internal war. He’d left a dent or two in some street signs after punching them, and then he might have broken the lamp on the beside table in the hotel room he’d rented. He knew he’d have to pay for it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d come so far only to lose the one woman he’d ever loved. He was alone in this world. All he’d had was his parents. They were taken from him. He’d made Penny his whole world; she was gone.
He was an island all to himself.
He’d done it to himself, he knew. He’d isolated himself from the world for fear of exactly what had happened to him with Penny. For fear of getting too close to someone and then have them ripped away. Though, that was his own fault to, he supposed. He could have been a better man. He could have… Something, anything. But it didn’t matter now. She was lost to him.
In an attempt to ebb his fury, he’d torn off all his clothing and gone to take a shower. It helped abate the need to break things. But in letting the anger wash away, all he could feel was the crippling pain of loss. He’d never once shed a tear over his parents death. He’d never once let himself mourn them. So why was he suddenly so moved to mourn? The parents that had made him a killer; the woman that had made him want to be normal. He was stuck in between the two and it felt like he was being torn apart.
For the first time since he was four years old, Oliver wept. For his parents, for himself, for Penny.
He only allowed it for a few moments, before carefully piecing together his Kevlar armor that had protected him all these years. And then, he exited the shower to face the rest of his miserable life alone.
Only to hear a knock at his door.
Who in this town could have wanted to talk to him? Certainly not Penny. He didn’t know anyone else. Maybe it was the owners of the place coming to eject him already.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and shook the water out of his hair before going to the door and pulling it open, nearly knocked over in shock when he saw Penny standing there. He listened to her words. This was the first time she’d said anything about her past as well. And suddenly, things made a little more sense.
But the problem was, he didn’t know how to make it better. For either of them. He couldn’t take back what he’d done. He couldn’t change who he’d been. “Pen…” he said softly, and then without a second thought, he reached out and pulled her to him, crashing his lips down upon hers. One of his hands cupped the back of her head as he pulled her into his hotel room and closed the door. He pressed her back against the door, his forehead resting against hers as his lips broke from hers.
He kept his eyes clamped shut as he let out a few breaths before speaking. “I don’t want to be an island anymore,” he said; his voice so soft it sounded like it would shatter. His hands now cupped her face as his eyes opened to gaze down into hers. He didn’t. He didn’t want to be what he’d been before. He wanted to be a man worthy of her.
Penny couldn't figure out why his lips burned against hers, or why it hurt to breathe after he pulled her against him. Her hands moved up to his chest, meaning to push him away, but instead fell to rest against his sides, just above the towel. Maybe she would have pushed him away if he'd been wearing more than just a towel, but instead, her fingers dug into the skin, unsure if she meant to pull him closer or hurt him as badly as she was hurting. After all, she didn't have to hold back her strength. It seemed counter-productive when he came up for air to speak. She blinked up at him, eyes softly narrowed as she scanned his pained features. "I believe you," she whispered, "No matter how much I don't want to." Because Penny was feeling the same way. It had been easy for her to play the victim in all of this, even if she technically was, but they had both been at fault when it came to their hearts. Penny thought she had done a good job hiding all of her insecurities about her past and her mother and herself; had done such a good job of it that she almost believed the lie herself. Mom was absent, dad was dead, there was nothing to talk about. If Penny could hide her past, what were the repercussions in finding love? Besides, you know, the obvious 'boyfriend turned out to be a werewolf hunter.' Penny's hands moved up to his wrists, gripping tightly as she shut her eyes. "You don't have to be an island," her forehead creased against his as she felt herself push up on her toes as though to nudge him into believing her words. "I refuse to believe anyone who is capable of love is incapable of being saved," she moved to run her fingers softly over his arms as she bit her lip. "Let's try and save each other."
What I want… is to stay here with you and imagine the world outside doesn’t exist.
I Don't Want to be an Island || Penny & Oliver (closed)
He didn’t think that he could feel any worse about all this; and then she had to go and say that he should have killed her. And then follow it up with that laugh. That horrible, uncharacteristic laugh. That combination was worse to him than if someone had ripped his damn heart out. “Pen…” he said, crossing behind the counter and dropping down on his knees beside her.
He wanted desperately to reach out and brush the tears from her face; or pull her into his arms and beg forgiveness. Something inside him told him it would only make it worse. After all, she wasn’t the only one that looked at his hands and saw blood. He was all too acutely aware of what he’d done. How many Penny’s had he taken from the world? How many loving and adoring boyfriends like himself had he left to grieve them? Oliver never knew self loathing until this moment.
"Pen, I…" he said, his eyes searching her face for some answer that he couldn’t come up with on his own. "I’m so sorry," he finally said, "I never… I never wanted this to happen to you." Trying to ignore how red his hands looked to him, he reached out and brushed his fingers through the ends of her hair, "The last thing I ever wanted was for my love to hurt you…"
It was suddenly very clear to him. Coming here; it was wrong. He should have kept his pain to himself and let her move on. What was that song that was popular nowadays? Only know you love her when you let her go?
And as the song began to play in his head, he felt a new resolve come over him. Glancing once more at her, he stood. He pulled his eyes from hers and turned, walking back to where he’d left his bag. He picked it up and cleared his throat. He stared at the door he was about to walk out of. “My love is always going to hurt you, though,” he said, his voice hardly above a whisper. “Even if I gave up hunting, like I’d planned, you’ll always see all the people I murdered when you look at me. You’ll always feel the pain of my betrayal. And if I love you like I claim, then… I need to let you move on and live the life you sought here. Without me.”
He pressed his lips together and looked down at the floor, turning his head to the side so she could see at least one side of his face. “If there’s a pack nearby, join it. Hunters tend to stay away from packs. Stay with the pack, Penny, and you’ll never have to look over your shoulder again, I promise.”
Oliver hesitated, struggling to find the resolve to actually walk out. “I hope that you find a way to be happy, Pen…” he said softly, feeling tears prick his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, turned his face back towards the door and pushed himself forward, “Goodbye.”
He walked out the door, glanced around and headed back on the same path towards town. He’d find a place to stay for the night, then go back to Chicago in the morning. He’d let her have the life she wanted. It was all that he and his bloodstained hands could do to offer her any semblance of happiness.
There was so much of him all at once as he moved to crouch beside her, and as much of her that wanted to retreat farther away, there was still that part of her that was simply fighting with herself not to reach out and touch him. She could practically feel her insides ripping apart as they fought for dominance, while her muscles sat limp and stupid and aching for something she couldn’t quite put a finger on.
Her head was nodding as he apologized, though she couldn’t figure out why. Maybe he had finally done it; maybe she was broken — laughing and crying and nodding and blubbering about like a lovesick fool. Sick in the worst possible ways. She made a noise in the back of her throat as he stood up; walked away to grab his bag. Penny had wanted him gone. For good. Forever. Out of her life and out of her mind and off of her radar, but as soon as the door dinged after him, Penny felt a deep, miserable sob leave her.
It was different when she had packed up and left, but why did it feel this way when he walked out the door?
She was better off without him. He wasn’t a good person. They made each other weak. As the tears slowly ceased to pour and the sobs rumbled to a slow, probably sensing that Penny didn’t have anything left in her to give, Penny pulled herself up off the floor and locked the front door to Ethel and Marie’s small flower shop, beyond glad that nobody had wandered in the last half hour and caught her on the ground.
For the first time since she was very young, Penny shifted without the help of the moon. She left work in a daze and a note scribbled to Ethel that she broke a vase and would pick up another on Monday, hoping that could suffice until then. She didn’t even know how safe the woods surrounding the town were, didn’t think to sniff it out before she had her shirt over her head and her pants in a pile on a tree stump.
She ran for hours — long, long after the sun had already set and the night set in an almost comfortable cool in the trees. Penny knew she was basically running in circles, too afraid to get lost and lose her own scent in the trees full of different aromas. But finally, with one last painful howl into the midnight, Penny retreated back to her clothing and walked back into the town, knowing without even really thinking about it that she was picking up Oliver’s scent and trailing it. She was breathless and winded and her heart was beating loudly from her run, but she could still hear herself call his name softly as she stopped in front of his door, her knuckles rapping softly at the wood.
As soon as he opened the door, Penny’s thoughts were leaving her lips.
"My dad left my mother and I because of what we were," Penny’s voice cracked, though she knew she didn’t have anymore tears left in her. "I didn’t do anything to him, and he left me. What you are and what you’ve done — I can’t accept that, but you walking out on me was —" It was a lot like round 2. A roundhouse kick to her face via the men in her life. "Even if what you’re saying makes sense, I can’t accept it yet. I can’t watch you walk out another door, and I don’t know how to get better."
I Don't Want to be an Island || Penny & Oliver (closed)
Okay, so they were going straight for the tough questions. Might as well get all the stuff she’d hate him for out in the open if she was ever going to forgive him, right? He had a feeling that his past was more than she could ever forgive. “You really want to know?” he asked her, and when she didn’t answer, he let out a sigh.
He placed his hands flat on the counter, as if to steady himself. He thought over all of her questions as he stared down at the counter. “I couldn’t tell you how many there have been, Pen. I’ve been doing this so long…” he let out a breath, “I’ve known about wolves since… Before I can even remember. I was raised to be this, to be who I am. I was taught from the moment I was born about the supernatural. At first, they just used me for identifying them; I was better than they were for some reason…”
He neglected to say parents, and instead just said them. “So there are probably hundreds more deaths on my shoulders than the ones I actually took with my own hands,” he said, his eyes still on the counter, unable to look at her. “I… I didn’t have a reason for doing what I do. Just that they told me to, that it was expected of me. It was… as normal to me as a parent wanting their kid to go to a good college, I… I don’t know how to explain it.”
He pushed back from the counter then and turned away from her. He didn’t want her to see how his hands shook. “But then your kind gave me a reason. They murdered both of my parents; and I know it sounds stupid. Or maybe you think they got what was coming to them for what they’d done, but they were my parents. I was only eighteen, I…” He shook his head, “Besides them… Hunting was all I knew.”
Oliver swallowed hard at the lump in his throat and then ran a hand down his face, turning and motioning towards her. “And then I met you, and I don’t care who thinks it’s stupid, but I believe in love at first sight, and I believe in people belonging together. And maybe it was love that blinded me at first; but I didn’t see or feel or think about the things that made you what you are.” His dark eyes bore into hers, “And once I did know, I was… Angry, depressed. How could I be so desperately in love with the very creatures I’d sworn to my parents that I would destroy? I didn’t know what to do! All I knew was that… No matter what you were, I couldn’t ever picture a world… without you in it.”
He let out a shaky breath, “And then… Then you left. I couldn’t just… I couldn’t leave things like that. Even if you never want me again, Penny… I needed you to know that I loved you. And that it was real.”
For someone who was so pissed, Penny was remaining shockingly calm. She winced at the right moments, felt her belly growl lowly at others, but throughout his story, Penny’s ears remained intent on hanging on to every word he said. She believed him. Why else would he so so brutally honest with her if every terrible thing he was saying wasn’t the truth? His parents — she couldn’t even imagine — but then, she couldn’t even imagine that it would turn him into something she didn’t even know anymore. How could honesty be the best policy when it only hurt so much worse than a lie and a smile?
"I never even knew there were others like me," Penny whispered, more to herself than directed at him, eyes clouding over as she felt herself slide down the wall and plop to the ground. He was looking at her, and Penny felt for a moment just how disappointed in himself that she was in him, even if it wasn’t half as severe. He made the mistake of falling for her, just as she had made the mistake of falling in love with him. Her mother had tried to warn her about love, hadn’t she?
Penny remained silent, her tears falling in pathetic, fat globs onto her jeans as she processed. She should have been up on her feet, yelling and screaming and kicking. He’d ruined the lives of so many people — so many wolves, like her, who had done nothing wrong. Or maybe they had wronged. Maybe her species had it coming for a long time, but Penny had done nothing to provoke anyone or anything. Penny was insecure in her own skin enough without having Oliver there to watch her sit and cower like a dog with a broken leg. The analogy was more fitting than she cared to admit.
Oliver had killed. He loved her but he was a killer. Her Oliver. There were others out there just like him; killing and taking names of people she had never met but had felt more emotionally connected to now more than ever. Penny couldn’t hold in a soft sob, pulling her legs to her chest and her forehead between her knees as she held on to her own body so tightly, craving the contact of the warmth of her own skin. She wasn’t cut out for this. Not one bit.
"You should have just killed me," she spoke, an almost out-of-body experience as she surprised herself with her words. Penny brought her head back up and did the worst thing she could possibly do: she laughed. It was a broken and hollow shell of a laugh that sounded nothing like her own obnoxious snicker, but it was there. "How does this make anything easier or better? How am I supposed to keep going on with my life knowing all of this shit? I already hated the moonlight and despised my own skin before you came around and now I have to keep looking over my shoulder all the time because — because there are people like you out there who hate me for a lot less?” Penny’s voice cracked and it felt like she was being stabbed in the heart all over again as she gripped tightly at her tummy.
"It hurts, Ollie," she sighed, eyes shutting tight. "I love you and it really hurts."
Woopsies, Didn't See Ya There | Jaden & Penny (closed)
He chuckled at her description of the pack. “I guess you could say that… at least, as far as outsiders are concerned. But within the pack… well, everyone’s fair game.” he mused, thinking of all the pranks that had been played on Toby over the years. “And believe me, everyone is fuckable with inside the pack.” he added with a shake of his head. Growing up, Jaden had been the recipient of plenty of ‘fucking with.’ Though he wouldn’t trade his pack for anything in the world, there were definitely times when he wondered if they all weren’t a curse after all.
He couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips though when she started talking about him being nude again. Nice to know he had made an impression at least. “Would you uhh…” he paused as he tried to think of a way to ask her this without creeping her out. “would you wanna head back to my place for a drink? Maybe a beer or two would help both of us get over our embarrassment? And it’s not that far.” He really wasn’t trying to make it sound like he wanted to get her drunk and then take advantage of her. But it had come out that way anyways. Maybe he should have mentioned the fact that Harley would probably be there too?
Penny had a faint feeling that being a part of a pack was a little bit like being apart of a family -- but Penny knew little to none about being apart of either one either way. With a hollow shell for a mother and the closest person she had ever had since a serial killer, Penny was feeling a bit under the dumps.
Which was why she had been about to shift. Before she caught him naked, obviously, and distractions turned her head around from there. She cocked her head at his question, rose a brow as he seemed to debate with something in his head, and finally Penny broke out a small smile.
"A beer would be awesome," Penny spoke so matter-of-factly as she shrugged her jacket back over her shoulders. In essence, Penny could use a lot more than just one. "I'm Penelope, by the way. Well, Penny for short, only my mom calls me Penelope. And the mailman..." Rambling. Again. Penny hid a grimace before stepping towards him with a small wave of her hand. "I'll follow along, soldier."
Woopsies, Didn't See Ya There | Jaden & Penny (closed)
He noticed how emotional she got. Jaden truly couldn’t imagine what her life had been like, not having the built in family, not having a group of people who went through exactly what you did, who you could talk with, joke about it, even. He sighed and as she shook her head and unless he was mistaken, there were tears in her eyes.
Now Jaden felt really bad. He hadn’t meant to rub it in her face. And yet, his idiocy and incredulousness at the fact that she didn’t even know about packs had done just that. He lamely reached out and patted her back softly. “It’s not always that great.” he replied, trying to make her feel better. Normally, Jaden was a lot… well, he was just better at comforting people. But considering he had met this girl for the very first time completely naked, his usual charm was somewhat less tonight.
"I mean, you didn’t have to deal with over 20 people knowing each and every aspect of your life and forcing themselves into your life growing up." he added. "Plus, it definitely made puberty a lot more… interesting." he teased with a wink. He could remember months at a time where shifting in front of his pack had been one of the worst ordeals while everyone started changing and not just by shifting into wolf form.
Penny could feel a corner of her lips curve up in a smirk as he attempted to blab about how awkward it was growing up in a pack. She didn't doubt it was awkward -- this had been awkward for a second, her cheeks were still tinged with pink and she had, in fact, looked at his package despite the fact that she told him she hadn't. There were people in this pack of his who got to look at each other's goods all the time! Penny wasn't so much shocked as she was intrigued.
But she couldn't stop listening. If there was one thing Penny had always hated about herself, it was that she had let her mother's words get to her. Penny could run as far away from her past but she would always be insecure about her furry little problem. Always.
"But you guys are practically -- practically unfuckwithable, right?" Penny asked, almost too earnest for her own good. There were literally songs written about how sucky it was being on your own. Nothing good ever came from being by yourself, and Penny had gone and gotten herself into the worst kind of trouble. "That's so cool."
Penny shrugged. "I usually drove out to some farmlands to shift, when I needed to. Sounds like I missed out on all the fun stuff -- I mean, interesting..." Penny blabbed, waving a hand and making a soft putting noise with her lips. "Being nude, in a pack with some other hot bodies, probably. That's like an art show in Chicago but they don't have --" Penny motioned to him and turned red once again. "All that. I'm talking a lot about you being nude, I think it's all this heat, I'm more off an all-weather wolf." Penny bit her lips between her teeth and shook her head. She needed to stop rambling.
girl with no name | a skye fanmix [listen]
"that’s the thing about Skye. what I told her shattered her … here I am, telling her something that could destroy her faith in humanity, and somehow she manages to repair a little piece of mine."
01. girl with no name - jules larson + ag 02. the wire - haim 03. heartbeats (the knife cover) - ellie goulding 04. strong - london grammar 05. to build a home - the cinematic orchestra 06. full of grace - sarah mclachlan 07. so cold - ben cocks ft. nikisha reyes-pile 08. just tonight - the pretty reckless 09. drumming song - florence and the machine 10. give it up now - kingsfoil
Penny’s gaze followed every step he took in her direction; even flinched when he stepped into that perfect little bubble she’d made around herself ever since leaving Chicago, stepping back until her butt hit the wall and her hands moved to steady her. There was so much of…
Penny’s eyes, wide as saucers, never left his own eyes as he spoke. She didn’t know if she was looking for the lie in his words, or if she was still amazed at the fact that he had traveled all this way just to mercilessly kill her in the small town of Oxford’s flower shop. Ethel and Marie would be so pissed if they found her dead.
Ultimately, Penny found herself growing weaker; she found herself believing him. Surely that made her weak, right? She had always been insecure in her own skin — but if she was gonna go; if she really was gonna die; if all that far she had of the good in people was really going to let her down, the least she could do was find out why.
Penny wiped at her eye with the back of her hand, turning away, suddenly ashamed of herself letting him see just how much he affected her. She kept to her perch next to the wall, still unwillingly to approach so they could speak at normal distance from one another, and her eyes trailed over the rest of him. They landed on his hands. He’d killed others like her, with those hands, hadn’t he? Not even three weeks prior she was holding those hands after she dragged him out to the farmer’s market. He’d held her face with those hands. Sometimes he made dinner with those hands, and the thought of those hands caked in the blood of another made her want to vomit. She never did finish her Dexter marathon. She didn’t think she could stomach it, now.
“Why?” she asked simply, hollowly as her gaze moved back to his face. “How can you love me but clearly not love what I am when you know I can’t change?” Penny barreled on. “How many others have there been? How long have you known about wolves? How many have you hurt or killed or maimed and how many did you hurt after you found out about me?” Penny raged, stepping towards him of her own accord.
I Don't Want to be an Island || Penny & Oliver (closed)
Erasing herself from the grid had come surprisingly easy for Penny — or so she thought. She had left the apartment with a duffle of sweaters and a stick of deodorant before Oliver was even out of the shower, had chucked her cell in a trash bin at O’Hare and was out of the state of Illinois entirely in under an hour. That had to be a personal record, right?
Landing in Jackson had been too easy. If she wanted to get off the grid, she needed to do one better; she needed to go a step farther. Penny wiped that sweaty brow and marched on over to the first taxi and told them to drive until she said to stop (or run out of money for the fare). Who the hell would find her in Oxford, right? And even though Penny’s motel reeked of death and a hint of manure; even if the only job she could snag was barely-full time work for two old ladies in a flower shop; even if she had only packed sweaters and moved down south… Penny was surprisingly not unhappy. She spent a lot of time looking over her shoulder. She jumped at noises in the forest and hated when the cleaning lady at the Super 8 knocked on her door every morning at 8 am, but Penny had found in Oxford what she had been missing her whole entire life — other wolves. People just like her. People who led completely normal lives and shifted during the full moon; shifted whenever the hell they wanted to, even. People who didn’t have to worry about their boyfriends murdering them. A pack. It was everything. Even still, Penny was not happy and it had every reason to do with that boy back in Chicago. Her days still filled with thoughts of him; murdering shifters such as herself; lying to her face; kissing her goodnight every evening and waking up in his arms every morning. She wondered if she had stayed, if she would have ended up with a pitchfork through her while she was asleep. But today was not filled with thoughts of him. Today had gone by quite quickly, in fact. Ethel and Marie had both left for the day for Thursday night bingo, leaving Penny to close, keeping her busy with cutting in the back. She cut the last blue ribbon, biting her lips in concentration as she tied the last bow to the vase before she heard the soft ding of the doorbell. She grabbed the finished product to show off on the front desk when — KSSHH. Penny gasped at the sound of glass shattering, almost confused at the noise. The vase lay broken at her feet, the flowers she had arranged scattered, and yet the sound of her heart beating in her ears was louder than the vase breaking. He spoke and he smiled and still Penny remained rigid and her heart beat irregularly loud. She breathed in once; breathed out shakily, looked around almost helplessly, and finally: “How are you here right now?” she asked, practically shaking from fear? Sadness? Anger? “You can’t be here.” And yet…
Oliver gazed down at the broken glass at her feet. He’d heard and absorbed her question, but it didn’t really seem like the pertinent thing at the moment. Glancing around them, his eyes caught sight of a broom and a large dust pan. Raising a hand and combing it through his hair, he walked over, grabbed the two things he’d spotted, and then walked behind the counter and began gathering all the shards of glass together with the broom. He looked up at her and said, “You need to step away, I don’t want you getting hurt.”
He went about cleaning, leaving this ironic statement of his hanging in the air as he bent down and brushed all the shards into the pan. He stood with the pan in his hand and turned towards where he’d spotted a trash can earlier. He dumped it all and then returned the broom and the dust pan to where he’d found them, then returned to his place at the counter and the exact position he’d been in before all this had begun.
Clearing his throat he finally answered her question, “I think it’s pretty obvious why I’m here.” He stayed leaned against the counter, gazing at her. And he couldn’t help it; the adoration he felt for her showed in his eyes. “Look, I know why you ran… But… I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to. I’m not ever going to hurt you,” he told her, then let out a breath, “I know it’s… Complicated. What I do, what you are… But. I… I love you, Pen. And what you are isn’t going to change that.”
Penny's gaze followed every step he took in her direction; even flinched when he stepped into that perfect little bubble she'd made around herself ever since leaving Chicago, stepping back until her butt hit the wall and her hands moved to steady her. There was so much of him all at once; his smell, his voice, his gaze, that smile... Penny felt like she was falling all over again. But then he spoke again. Three familiar words had never made her more sick to her stomach than they did right now. "You don't get to say that. You don't get to tell me you love me and expect me to be okay. You -- you kill people. Like me." That was why he was here, wasn't it? To finish what he couldn't do in Chicago? A million other terrible thoughts floated through her head. If he had come to hunt her down, he had literally hit the werewolf jackpot in this town -- how could she be so selfish to think she was safe here when it could mean trouble for someone else? Even the part of her that hated him so badly fought with that little sliver that could never hate him, even if she tried. Trust him, it tried to reason. You lied to him, too. Yeah. For good reason. Penny set her jaw, even as it shook in a pout. "Get out, Oliver," she fisted her hands tightly at her sides as she watched him cautiously move about like nothing happened. "Get out, or I swear I'll--" wolf out? lose it? break another vase? cry? The skin rippling beneath the outer layer told Penny that she should be worried about which one she just might do -- or did that only egg him on? Her threats felt empty and powerless and she hated him even more for it.
could we love each other?
I sometimes wish I’d stayed inside my mother; never to come out.