Her Human His Lycan

Stars

Emma POV

It was hard to concentrate, my mind scattered like autumn leaves in the wind. Yet, I needed to focus, to act as normal as possible amidst the chaos. I grabbed my book bag, feeling the weight of it in my hands, and brought it closer to my body. The zipper made a faint sound as I opened it, revealing the stack of assignments waiting for my attention.

Kris and Melody had invited me to work on our group assignment in a few hours. I hesitated, my inner turmoil urging me to decline. But I knew I couldn't hide forever. The hunters may have seen me at that bar. I doubted they knew my true identity, but isolating myself now would only raise suspicions. I had to continue with my life, to act as if everything was normal.

Clay had seen me sick and intoxicated. It was easy to pass it off as a mere hangover. I didn't think I showed enough signs of illness to raise any red flags, assuming he was indeed a hunter. I tapped my pencil against my books, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Each word I read felt like a struggle, my sickness weighing me down. But I persevered, determined to make progress.

Finally, I mustered the strength to get out of bed and face the day. I turned on the shower, hoping that the warm water would soothe my troubled mind. But it was futile. I stepped out, feeling the dampness cling to my skin, a constant reminder of my vulnerability. Time was slipping away, and I hurriedly dressed, my fingers fumbling with the buttons. The sun had begun its descent, casting a golden glow over the chilly evening. In my haste, I had forgotten to grab something to ward off the cold. But luckily, my destination was not far, and I made my way there swiftly.

As I entered the dining hall, the cacophony of voices enveloped me. Melody's voice cut through the noise, calling out my name. I followed the sound and saw Kris seated at the table. "You must be freezing, dressed only in a t-shirt," he remarked, his eyes scanning my attire. I

"I ran out fast," I admitted feeling a chill crawl up my spine. I found a seat and pulled out my books and notebooks, the familiar weight grounding me in the present moment.

"We invited Clay," Melody said. "He said he would be here soon."

"Okay," I replied quietly. I struggled to maintain a sense of normalcy, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

"Let's get started. We can fill him in when he arrives," I suggested. The others agreed, and we began reviewing the details of our plan.

As time passed, the heavy, hazy feeling that enveloped me seemed to intensify. It weighed on my senses, clouding my thoughts and making it hard to focus. The air felt thick and suffocating, as if each breath required extra effort.

"I'll be right back," I excused myself, escaping the suffocating atmosphere. I hurriedly made my way to the bathroom, seeking solace within its walls. Closing the stall door behind me, I sank down onto the seat, my head in my hands. The coolness of the porcelain against my skin offered a brief respite from the overwhelming sensations.

Deep breaths filled my lungs, their rhythmic inhalations and exhalations providing a temporary calm. In this moment, I found relief in the knowledge that my current state of weakness prevented the onset of my heat.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket, jolting me from my brief reprieve. I retrieved it, finding a message from Ryan.

"How are you doing?" he inquired.

"I've seen better days, but I'm hanging in there," I replied, grateful for the connection with someone who understood. While I had my phone out, I quickly sent a message to my brother, assuring him of my well-being. The absence of our usual telepathic link left a void, amplifying the sense of isolation.

As I tried to regain my composure, the sound of approaching footsteps reached my ears. Two girls entered the bathroom, their voices carrying with them. "Did you see that freak with white hair? She's with the nerds," one of them whispered conspiratorially.

"I messaged Liz, and she wants us to keep an eye on her, make sure she's not with her man," the other giggled, their words dripping with malicious intent.

"If anything, Clay feels sorry for her. She's not his type. It's pathetic how she thinks she has a chance with him," another voice chimed in, their words laced with disdain. The girls left, their conversation fading into the background.

The throbbing in my head intensified, each beat a painful reminder of the negativity surrounding me. But their words held no power over me. In fact, I found their pettiness amusing. These drama queens, seeking validation by tearing others down, were nothing more than pitiful souls trapped in their own insecurities.

Their words didn't hurt me. Instead, they served as a reminder of the strength I possessed. I had managed to steer clear of such toxic individuals throughout my life, recognizing their tactics for what they were. Their attempts to belittle me, even in the context of Clay, were futile.

In a way, it was comical. Liz, the puppeteer, had these girls reporting back to her whenever they saw me. Did she truly believe that such actions could diminish my worth? The realization of her insecurity only solidified my resolve.

After a few more moments, I rose from my seat, leaving the confines of the bathroom behind.

As I looked at the table, I saw Clay sitting there, his presence evident even amidst the haze that clouded my senses. His scent lingered in the air, though its potency was diluted by my current state. Several girls glanced his way, their eyes drawn to his magnetic aura. The bathroom visitors, perhaps. Yet, none of their faces were familiar to me. Liz must have quite the following, a thought that filled me with a tinge of sadness. This is the time in life where many are supposed to embark on their own, to become adults and discover the weight of true responsibilities. For me, I learned that lesson at a young age in my position. But I understood that college served as the gateway to such enlightenment for many humans.

I eased myself into the chair, nonchalant about Clay's presence. "Emma, I hope you don't mind, but we all glanced over some of your notes," Kris remarked, breaking the silence. His words carried a hint of admiration.

"Thanks, feel free to read as much as you want. I can make copies for all of you, if you'd like," I offered, extending my generosity.

Kris playfully quipped, "You may just become my new study buddy," eliciting a smile from me. Yet, in that moment, I noticed a flicker of something in Clay's eyes. Jealousy, perhaps? But he chose to remain silent.

Melody turned her attention to Clay, inquiring about his progress on the assignment.

"I haven't started yet, but I will tonight," he confessed.

"That's fine. We can also go over some of your part as a team to help," Melody offered, opening her book to the section he was assigned.

"Here," I interjected, flipping a few pages of my notebook. "I took notes this afternoon on each part. I know they're not my assigned sections, but I find making an outline helps me learn. This is your section, Clay. I've organized the main points that should be covered. It should guide you in the right direction." As I neatly tore the page from my notebook and handed it to him, our hands brushed against each other. I couldn't help but feel that it was intentional on his part. And so, we delved into our discussion, but any communication with Clay was limited to one-word answers. He seemed distant, but it didn't bother me. All was going well until, as expected, Liz's annoying voice pierced through the air, reaching our table.

"Clay, why are you here? I want dinner, let's go," she said, her voice cutting through the air with an exasperated tone. As she walked towards the table. She glanced at me with a mischievous smirk, as if her words were meant to provoke me. Exhaustion weighed heavy on my eyelids, making it difficult to summon any anger.

"You should go if you have plans, Clay. My notes should help you," I calmly replied.

He hesitated for a brief moment, then abruptly stood up. "I'll be back," He announced to everyone at the table, as he whisked Liz away to a secluded corner. The murmurs of their conversation blended with the distant chatter of other diners, creating a low hum of annoyance in the background. Melody let out an exasperated sigh, her frustration palpable.

"So annoying," Melody muttered. I nodded in agreement. "I swear, when I left high school, I thought I was escaping from girls like Liz. Guess I was wrong," she continued, her words punctuated by the occasional clatter of dishes being cleared away.

I sighed, feeling a mixture of resignation and disappointment. "Unfortunately, some never mature," I replied.

"Are you all good, Emma? I mean, we don't know you well, but you don't seem like yourself," Melody asked, her voice tinged with concern.

I mustered a small smile, the sensation of my lips stretching feeling foreign on my face. "I appreciate your concern. I guess I'm just adjusting to college life. I went out drinking last night and had way too much, so today has been payback," I explained.

Melody chuckled. She rummaged through her bag, the crinkling of paper and jingling of keys accompanying her search. Finally, she pulled out a small bottle and handed it to me. "Here, this may help you," she offered, her voice carrying a note of kindness.

I examined the bottle, the scent of herbal remedies wafting from it. With a twist of the cap, I broke the seal and took a shot, the liquid gliding down my throat with surprising ease. The taste, though not entirely pleasant, was bearable. "Thanks," I expressed my gratitude.

Clay returned, his hurried footsteps echoing in the room. "I'm sorry, I'll have to meet again another time," he apologized, the sound of his bag being hastily slung over his shoulder punctuating his words.

"No worries," Melody replied. Clay darted off. I continued to work in silence for another hour, the scratching of my pen against paper providing a rhythmic soundtrack to my thoughts. Eventually, I decided to call it a night, my tired body yearning for rest. I stepped outside, the cool evening air enveloping me, causing a shiver to run down my spine. The soft glow of streetlights illuminated my path, casting elongated shadows on the pavement.

I felt a gentle vibration in my pocket, and as I reached for my phone, the warm glow of the screen illuminated my face. Jennifer's urgent message appeared, warning me about the hunters closing in.

I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my racing thoughts, but the metallic taste of anxiety lingered on my tongue, leaving a bitter residue.

As I entered my building, a sharp pain shot through my body, causing me to hunch over in agony. The pain was without a doubt Clay's betrayal. Every time he even so much as kissed someone else, it felt like my insides were being torn apart. The pain was unbearable, as if my very existence depended on our bond. The sights and sounds of the hallway blurred as I struggled to reach my unit.

A metallic taste filled my mouth, the tang of blood, as I made my way towards my bathroom. The sensation of blood dripping from my nose mirrored the turmoil within me. The coolness of the tiled wall provided a brief respite as I slid down, closing my eyes and silently pleading for Inara's well-being.

The sound of my apartment bell rang after sometime passed, and with a weary sigh, I pushed myself up and made my way to the door.

Opening the door, I was met with a mixture of conflicting emotions. Clay stood before me, holding a box of pizza. The scent of warm, cheesy goodness wafted towards me, enticing my senses. Despite my initial reluctance, my stomach betrayed me, growling with hunger. I hesitated for a moment, torn between my desire to avoid Clay and the longing to see him. Eventually, I conceded and invited him inside, the door creaking open, as the aroma of the pizza mingled with the heavy atmosphere.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Clay said to me, his voice filled with remorse. I sighed, the weight of the complicated situation pressing down on me. I wanted to be angry at him for being with Liz, but the sight of his genuine concern made it difficult. He had no idea the emotional and physical pain I was experiencing.

"It's all good," I said. Clay unexpectedly moved closer, brushing his finger against my lip. Startled, I instinctively stepped back, feeling a mix of apprehension and desire to maintain distance.

"You were bleeding, are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

I forced a smile, masking the truth. "Yes, I am fine. Just tripped on my way back."

Curiosity sparked within me as Clay opened his backpack and retrieved a map. The faint sound of the map unfolding reached my ears. "What's that?" I asked, my voice carrying a hint of intrigue.

"A star map," he replied. "Since you enjoy stargazing, I thought we could have some pizza and relax while looking at the sky." I nodded, silently appreciating his thoughtfulness. Grabbing a few blankets from my bed, I swung open the patio door, feeling a rush of cool air against my face.

Clay placed the pizza and map on the table, I handed him a blanket. The wooden bench we sat on felt sturdy and comforting, like a familiar embrace. Our bodies were close, creating an undercurrent of nervousness that I had never experienced before.

The first bite of pizza filled my mouth with a delightful mix of flavors, satisfying my hunger. With the map as our guide, Clay pointed out constellations in the velvety night sky. The darkness seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in his presence.

Laughter and conversation filled the air, intermingling with the occasional hoot of an owl. As time passed, the initial discomfort of our closeness dissipated, replaced by a growing connection. Clay gently guided my hand, tracing the patterns of stars in the sky, and for a moment, I forgot about the pain and uncertainty that had plagued me.

We sat outside, engrossed in each other's company, under the watchful gaze of the twinkling stars. The passing hours seemed to blur, as if time had slowed down just for us.

I finally called it a night, reluctantly letting go of the moment that I wished would never end. As he hesitated to leave, the sight of his longing was evident in his eyes. "Tomorrow, I have to go out of town, most likely for the weekend," he said, gently taking my hand.

We stood by my doorway for a moment. He chuckled, the sound filling the air and confusing me. "Something wrong?" I asked, my voice filled with curiosity.

He shook his head, a mix of laughter and uncertainty in his expression. "I don't know, maybe," he replied. "It's just that I've never once been interested in someone until you came along. It's a nice and warm feeling, I guess."

"Be safe, Emma," he continued, his voice filled with concern. "I can't make you promise me that you won't see Ryan or spend time with another guy, although I wish I could. Just please be safe while I'm gone. Don't go out getting drunk since I can't be there to take care of you."

With a heavy heart, he turned to leave, his silhouette disappearing into the night. "Night, Clay," I whispered, my voice barely audible. I closed my door and leaned against the coolness of the wall. My heart fluttered, a mix of excitement and fear intertwining within me. I was falling for him, and falling hard.