Derek POV

Pain.

That's the first thing I register when I come to.

A deep, burning ache radiates from my side, dull but insistent, the kind of pain that lingers even after the worst of the damage is done. My senses are muddled, my body sluggish, like I'm dragging myself out of a fog. I force my breathing to slow, grounding myself, my fingers flexing against the sheets beneath me.

I'm in my loft.

That much I know.

But I also know I wasn't in my bed the last time I was conscious.

There was the fight. The falling. The pain. And then—

Nothing.

I blink hard, dragging a hand down my face, trying to shake off the heaviness in my limbs. My body is still stiff, still healing, but my mind is waking up fast, sharpening like a blade honing its edge.

Something's off.

There's a scent in the air. Something different. Not unfamiliar, but not supposed to be here.

Weed.

Smoke.

I go still.

There's someone else in my loft.

I keep my breathing even, my movements slow as I push myself up, scanning the room. My senses adjust to the dim lighting, my vision clearing as I take everything in.

And then I see her.

A girl.

Sitting on my couch like she owns the place, a lit joint held lazily between her fingers.

She doesn't react when I look at her, doesn't flinch or scramble for an excuse. She just exhales a slow stream of smoke, her gaze locked onto me, cool and unreadable.

I tense automatically, my muscles coiling, instincts kicking in. My eyes flick over her, assessing—dark clothing, long sleeves, makeup sharp enough to cut, an air of quiet defiance hanging around her like a second skin.

And there's a smell. A smell of blood.

Blood.

It's faint, almost drowned out by the smoke and the antiseptic, but it's there. And it's fresh.

I know the scent of my own blood. I know exactly how much I lost, exactly where the wounds were. But this? This isn't mine.

It's hers.

And yet, when I ask if she's injured—

She snorts. Rolls her eyes. Takes another long drag like I'm the dumbest person she's ever spoken to.

"Why the fuck are you asking me that?"

I don't react, keeping my expression blank. "I smell blood."

That gets her attention.

Her body stills, just for a fraction of a second—so brief most people wouldn't notice. But I do.

And more importantly—

Her heart rate spikes.

She's lying.

The realisation sharpens my focus, my curiosity deepening. Who the hell is this girl? And why is she bleeding but acting like it doesn't matter?

Her mask slips back into place almost instantly, and she waves a lazy hand in my direction. "First off— what the actual fuck do you mean you smell blood?"

I don't answer.

She keeps talking anyway.

"And secondly, you were literally covered in blood before. Obviously, you're gonna smell blood. If that's even possible."

It is.

But she doesn't need to know that.

Not yet.

Instead, I just watch her.

She's sharp. Observant. But she also talks too much, throwing out sarcasm like a defense mechanism, trying to keep control of the conversation.

I've met people like her before.

I know how to handle them.

I lean back slightly, tilting my head. "Weed's bad for you."

She scoffs. Takes another long, slow drag, meeting my gaze without hesitation.

"Yeah?" She exhales the smoke in a steady stream. "So is getting stabbed, but that didn't stop you."

I huff out a short breath, somewhere between annoyance and amusement. She's got nerve.

I move to push myself up, ignoring the way my body protests, but the second I shift my weight—pain shoots through my side, and I falter. My balance wavers, and I'm forced to fall back onto the bed, my jaw tightening.

A short laugh escapes her.

"Yeah, you probably shouldn't get up just yet," she says, voice amused. "You know, with the whole nearly dying, and bleeding out thing."

I glare. "That's never held me back before."

Her brows lift slightly, and she hums, thoughtful. "Huh." She takes another drag, exhaling slowly. "So you are Dracula."

I blink. "What?"

She gestures vaguely in my direction. "When I was stitching you up, it was like I was just helping and your skin was doing the rest on its own." Her head tilts. "So. You a vampire, or what?"

I exhale sharply, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Mind your own business."

She smirks. "You say that like I won't get answers eventually."

I clench my jaw. "If you're not gonna stop talking, then get out of my fucking apartment."

She shrugs, unfazed. "I mean, sure, but I live upstairs, so it's not like you'll be getting rid of me forever."

I tense slightly at that. Upstairs?

She catches the reaction, and her smirk widens slightly.

"Yeah. Just moved in. Been here, what? Two days?" She stretches, arms raising above her head before dropping back down, completely at ease. "And I've already seen and heard a lot more than I ever have before."

My expression darkens.

She's paying attention.

That's dangerous.

For both of us.

I keep my gaze locked onto her, searching for any sign of what she knows, what she's figured out, what she's just guessing at. But her expression stays unreadable, the faintest hint of amusement lurking beneath the surface.

I don't like it.

I don't like her.

She's too calm. Too collected. Too comfortable in a situation where she should be questioning everything.

But more than that—

She's bleeding.

And she lied about it.

That sticks with me.

Who is this girl?

Shes a stranger, She's an unknown. And I don't trust unknowns.

And what the hell has she been through to make her like this? So careless, so closed off and guarded, I don't think her expression has changed once this entire time.

I push past the ache in my muscles, force myself to sit up a little straighter. The pain is already fading, nothing more than a dull throb, but it's enough to remind me that I need to be careful. Need to be more aware. I've made too many mistakes lately.

She notices.

She's been watching me the entire time, eyes sharp despite the way she acts like she couldn't care less. The joint between her fingers burns lazily, glowing red in the dim light of the loft. She takes another inhale, slow and deliberate, exhaling in a long stream of smoke that curls in the air between us. The scent of weed mixes with the lingering copper tang of blood, and I know she's still bleeding. Somewhere beneath that leather and the layers of indifference, she's hurt.

She doesn't want me to know that.

"You going back upstairs or what?" I ask, my voice rougher than I intend.

She shrugs, lazy, unconcerned. "Dunno." She takes another slow drag, exhales through her nose. "Haven't decided yet."

I roll my eyes. "Figured as much."

She smirks like she likes getting a rise out of me, A total stranger, for someone who has clearly been through some shit she is very trusting, for all she knows I could be a serial killer.

I ignore it, shifting slightly, pressing a hand against my side. The healing is fast, even for me. Another thing she's noticed—her gaze flickers when I check, the briefest flash of curiosity before she buries it under layers of disinterest.

She doesn't ask, though.

Just keeps watching.

The silence stretches, thick and unspoken, but she doesn't look away. She doesn't fidget or glance at her phone like most people do when they get uncomfortable.

She's comfortable.

Too comfortable.

And I don't know what to make of that.

"Your parents gonna be worried about you?" I ask, watching closely.

She lets out a laugh. It's short, sharp, bitter.

"As if."

That reaction makes something tighten in my chest, an uncomfortable twist of recognition that I ignore.

I don't say anything, but I don't look away either.

She notices.

I see the shift in her posture, subtle but there, like she's used to being looked at but not seen. Like she's waiting for something- waiting for me to say something else, to pry, to push.

She rolls her eyes before I can. "Why do you expect me to just spill my life story when I barely know a damn thing about you either?"

I glare at her.

Most people get nervous when I glare at them—hell, most people don't even look me in the eye. But she just sits there, slouched on my couch, in my apartment, taking a drag from the joint like she has nowhere better to be. Like she doesn't give a damn whose apartment she's in.

She should.

I lean forward slightly, resting my forearms on my thighs, hardening my glare. She doesn't flinch. Doesn't shift back. Her heart rate doesn't even increase.

"You always this good at socialising and having conversations" she asks, her voice edged with amusement.

"I don't socialise," I say flatly.

She smirks. "Yeah, no shit. You don't really seem like the having fun type."

"I have plenty of fun."

She raises a brow, skeptical. "Oh yeah? What do you do for fun, Derek?"

"Train."

She blinks. "Train what?"

I don't answer. Just glare.

She rolls her eyes. "See, that's the thing—you wanna sit there and act all mysterious, but you also wanna grill me about my personal life? Yeah, no. Doesn't work that way."

I clench my jaw, exhaling sharply.

She's irritating. Too comfortable. Too at ease in a situation most people would be desperate to get out of.

And underneath the scent of weed and smoke, and I can still smell the fucking blood on her.

It's faint, barely noticeable beneath the layers of leather and cigarette smoke, but it's there.

She stretches, joints popping slightly, her head tilting lazily as she watches me. She still hasn't moved to leave. Still hasn't made any indication that she's going to leave.

I should tell her to go.

I should send her back upstairs, back to wherever the hell she came from.

But instead, I shift forward again, my voice dropping just slightly. "You're hurt."

She freezes for a fraction of a second. Just a fraction. But I catch it.

"No, I'm not." Her voice is smooth, even, but I hear the lie clear as day.

I tilt my head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Lying doesn't work on me."

She exhales, annoyed. "Okay, dad," she mutters, rolling her eyes. "What are you, a human lie detector?"

Something flickers across her face—something quick, something defensive, something tired.

She's good at hiding it.

She's really good at hiding it.

But not good enough.

"You gonna tell me what happened, or do I have to guess?" I ask, watching her closely.

She stares at me for a long moment, like she's weighing something in her head, like she's deciding whether or not I'm worth the effort.

Then, finally, she shrugs. "Got into a fight."

I wait.

She doesn't elaborate.

I raise a brow. "That it?"

"That's all you're getting," she says simply, dragging from the joint again.

"Who?" I ask, my tone even.

She exhales smoke through her nose. "What?"

"Who did you fight?"

She laughs, and there's no real humor in it. "Why do you care?"

I don't have an answer for that. Not one I want to give.

But I do care.

And I don't like that either. I only just met her, why do I care?

She watches me like she's trying to figure me out, but she won't. She won't because I don't even know what I'm trying to figure out myself.

Then she sighs, shaking her head slightly. "It's not your problem, Derek."

I grit my teeth. It is now.

She stands, stretching like she has all the time in the world, like she isn't still bleeding, like she isn't pissing me off more by the second.

"Thanks for the hospitality," she says, amused. "But I should probably go before you start interrogating me under a spotlight."

She turns toward the stairs, but I'm already on my feet.

"You shouldn't be walking around at night alone," I say, my voice sharper than I intend.

She pauses, glancing over her shoulder. "Why? You scared for me?"

"You should be," I say.

She studies me for a long second, something unreadable flickering in her eyes.

Then she smirks. "Noted."

•============•
A/n:

I'm so so so sorry for the late update! Life has been so hectic lately!

Anyway my biology exam this morning went okay! It wasn't perfect I think I'll get a C and for uni I ideally need an A but oh well it's better than I was expecting!

Now I just get to stress over math and chemistry exams coming up!

I'll try post again on Saturday! So keep an eye out! Unfortunately we are coming to the end of my pre written chapters, I think there's 2 left! But after next week I'll be able to write again!!

I love you all so so so much! I'm sorry this chapter isn't that great but oh well!

Please stay safe and don't forget to EAT and SLEEP and DRINK WATER

You are beautiful and amazing just the way you are <333

Bye my loves sorry for the yap lmao

WC: 2222
(hehe ur welcome)