[ he gets the second text and basically barrels out of the house after a bit of a double take. this was not the response he was expecting. he might get there embarrassingly waaay before she does too. ]
[ and even with all the speed of a wolf, the human stiles beats cora to the parlour. she doesn't bother to text him, or even reply to said texts, as she's sure her appearance at that the parlour, albeit twenty, close to half an hour later, is enough of an answer for him. stiles is a simple guy; he doesn't need to hear the word yes. ]
[ it's no surprise he's here. already. she sidles up next to him. ]
[ excessive nervous speeding will do that to you. except he's got most of it out of his system ( most, not all ) by the time cora shows up. he's hunched over the table with his phone out and his soda close enough for him to sip through the straw without having to move.
his head turns to the door the second it opens ( and has for ever other person that walked in ) and he's smiling with a wave before she's even crossed the threshold. ]
No, just like, ten, fifteen—nineteen minutes. [ awkward considering she's technically closer to this place. ]
[ forks washington is kind of miserable. cora doesn't like it, not really. but there are werewolves here, ones who shift into actual wolves, and derek thinks they could learn a thing or several from them. the shape they take on is much larger than she remembers her mother being; almost like big bears, they seem to take up so much space that there's little room left around them. even when he's not in wolf form, jacob still takes up a lot of room; he's begun to occupy a space in her head, where he sits and makes fun of her, trying to make her laugh. her face hasn't been permanently frozen into a scowl, no matter how many times she tries to demonstrate that it has been. ]
[ they sit in her room; it's a little try-hard girly. at a garage sale, on one of the very rare days of sunshine and warmth, derek had bought her some fairy lights she couldn't quite let herself let go of. stuck to the wall above the headrest, they line her bed with brighter light than the dull lightbulb above them. it's raining hard outside, preventing them — or her, really, when she's the one who says it's too dangerous to do a deadly activity in such horrible weather — from living a little on the wild side. cliff-diving really isn't something cora particularly likes doing, but, it makes her feel a little freer when they do it. she's invincible. nothing can touch her. not even the waves as she crashes into them. but forks still can, with it's arm extended rather miserably towards her. ]
[ jacob's being annoying, radiating so much heat. he's being awfully quiet, too. she doesn't like it. sparing him a glance, she sees the fairy lights light up his skin in such a warm way that he reminds her of the sun on the best days of beacon hills. she's gotten so used to hearing him practically narrate her life that she isn't quite sure what to do when she can hear herself think. ]
[ so, she does the only thing she can think of. glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she slowly leans towards the headrest of her bed, fingers locking on a plump pillow ... ]
[ Having wolves so different from them around has been pretty interesting, even if the Hales amongst them spend most of their time in the typical Forks weather scowling at the air around them. Jacob finds it fairly entertaining, after the introductions are doled out and they're welcomed into their territory for a stay that involves a lot of mutual learning. Their partial shifts are weird looking and at first he thinks they're kind of ridiculous, but at the end of the day they'd still be pretty useful and it's sort of fascinating to learn the differences between them. Their pack dynamics seem pretty similar, to a degree, though.
But the one thing he takes the most interest in is a person, and seeing how often he can make her crack a smile instead of perpetually frowning. Cora is smaller than Leah, but he's pretty sure she's about as fierce and maybe twice as tenacious. He's probably playing with fire in this regard, but it's just easy to poke fun at her, until she finally either humors him or snaps. And while he doesn't know which one he likes more, he does really enjoy the fact that she's not one to bullshit, and that she's not in the least bit humbled by the fact that he's an alpha or twice her size.
Her room is a familiar place by this point, just as familiar is she is, and at the moment he's distracted by the lights above them. Honestly, Jacob likes them; they're bright in a way that Forks rarely ever is, like the Beacon Hills that he gets her to talk about with enough pestering. While he's used to his dreary Washington home, he grew up with it and hasn't really known anything else but cloudy skies and rocky cliffs. A part of him would like to see if he can take his pack to California for a while, to see the place he only knows from stories. Mostly, he just wants to see what Cora used to call her home, before things changed for the worst. Details aren't ever really shared, but he notices the way she stops talking about certain things, shuts them down and moves onto something else or just gets up and leaves.
So far into his thoughts, drifting from the girl he can feel moving next to him to what he can show her about Forks to prove it's not all dreary monotone and boredom to her again, he doesn't realize why she's moving until he's whacked with a pillow.
It makes him jolt upright a little and onto his elbows, spluttering surprise. ] What was that for?
[ cora's amused. she can't really help it; she views jacob as the one who has all the answers, and for him to not know the one to his own question almost has her smiling. it's nice to throw him off, even if it's with something as mundane as tossing a pillow his way. ]
You're being weird.
[ she thinks about hitting him again, but, perhaps that'll be too much too soon. he has to earn it, not like how he has to earn the little things she says about beacon hills. she's let it slip, every now and then, when she's too comfortable, that, sometimes, the wolf he shifts into reminds her of her mother. she sometimes wishes derek had the kind of pack he did; one that didn't waver in loyalty, one that didn't look for another, one that stayed true because of kinship. cora finds herself at odds, sometimes, with the memories of the boys back home. maybe it's the weather that affects them; the rain makes these wolves so miserable they stay within the same circle while the warmer weather of california sends them in a restless run for another leader to follow. but the thing is, it is comfortable being around jacob. cora's only ever felt this a few times since her return to beacon hills. ]
[ she narrows her eyes slightly. she doesn't take them off of him, doesn't move to put her pillow back in place. she simply holds onto it loosely, keeping it between them. ] When you're quiet, it means you're up to something.
[ Jacob scrunches his face at her, though it's obvious that he's hardly annoyed by the sudden assault. He is caught off guard, though, and watches her warily as she sits their with her pillow. ]
Weird?
[ He honestly expects to be hit again, and he should probably assess the fact that he's fine with it. This is another pack's wolf, just casually hitting him with things. It's not exactly the first time she's done it, either, but he sort of brings those moments upon himself more than anything else. He knows her well enough to know which buttons he can press to get her riled up, even if it's in play. But he also knows her quiet moments, knows that he can reach out to a part of her past just by brushing his muzzle against her hand when he's shifted, big as a bear and bright as amber. Sometimes, he wishes he could offer something more than sanctuary in Forks, than the attempts to help them figure out that form that their mother once had. But he doesn't know what, so he just focuses on trying to brighten Cora's day, somehow. ]
I'm not even doing anything! [ Much as he protests, it's contradicted by the crooked smile he gives her. ] What, miss me talking your ear off?
it is! it's delight! i would throw myself off a cliff in delight over this! ❤
Ugh — [ cora curls her lip up, it attempting to obscure the amusement that obviously wants to shape her face. she rolls her eyes. ] — No.
[ jacob talking is a little like stiles, but, she sometimes thinks the human speaks to her with the tiniest lick of fear. she doesn't know why. she does, sometimes, think it's because of her brother. or perhaps it's because of peter; he does enough to turn most off of the hale family name. but jacob doesn't; he talks and talks and talks to the point where she's either pushing him off a cliff or throwing herself from one. she doesn't do it in a bid to escape him, either. just as she suspects he's trying to get a laugh from her, she does it to get one from him. it's difficult to make derek laugh these days; hearing it from someone else, to know that it's not a sound that's becoming extinct, gives her hope that one day she'll hear it again. ]
[ also, jacob is dumb. dumb in the sense that he doesn't know these things, doesn't know peter, doesn't know laura, doesn't know derek or herself. he can't hold her up against the tales of the poor hale family, burnt alive in their house. he only knows what she tells him, or what derek tries to keep hidden. he doesn't look at her brother and see a lost little boy; he just sees derek as he is now. she can tell him the good things about peter, and remember her uncle for the man she had always thought him to be, not the monster he truly was. it helps her cope with her own denial; it's difficult piecing the two peters together, just as it's been difficult reconciling younger derek with this more jaded version of himself. ]
[ and he's also just dumb. don't ask cora why. ]
If the room isn't filled with your voice, you make it so. [ she lifts the pillow and hits him, lightly on the arm. ] You're being weird.
Ugh! [ Jacob doesn't hesitate to mimic her expression, but it's only for a split second before he's laughing at her again.
Sometimes, he knows that he's an escape for her. But it's not in the same way that Bella had treated him at one point, so he's more all right with it. He knows things from both of the Hale siblings, enough to piece together that life had been rough and things had once been better, nearly a decade ago. Derek doesn't talk to him as much as Cora does, at least not in the same way, but he can tell that he's slowly easing up on that refined wall that both of them keep up around themselves. It's a lot higher than Cora's, and harder to infiltrate, but sometimes he'll catch Derek sitting on his phone and just texting somebody, and he's barely known him for very long but he finds it to be the most surreal image. So he figures someone's made their way in, somehow, and he focuses on weakening and climbing the one that the younger sister has set up.
And maybe she's a bit of an escape for him, too, but really all he wants is to get that amusement out to the surface. From what little he knows, what little she'll tell him that dips into darker memories, he thinks she deserves a bit of happiness. Even if she's laughing at him doing dumb things, like narrating every little thing she does or making fun of her scowling faces or getting her to join him in poking fun of people (even if they can hear them at their lowest whisper, and will wind up glaring at them). If anything, he just likes to hear her laugh.
Pursing his lips in response to the pillow bapping him in the arm, he reaches out to snag an opposite corner of it from hers. ] Maybe I'm giving you that peace and quiet you keep asking me to give you. What about that, huh?
[ cora rolls her eyes at him mimicking her. he is such a pain in her ass. ]
[ she'll say she doesn't know why she hangs out with him, but she does. he's close to her age, just like derek's ex-pack was, but he doesn't act like a kid. he does, at times, with his childish remarks, but, there's an older air to him that makes her think he's seen and experienced things the kids back in beacon hills have yet to do. maybe it's because he's from a different breed of werewolf, or because washington is simply different to california, or because he's just different himself that makes him seem a lot more older than he appears. ]
[ but when she's with him, she doesn't feel misplaced. she's not cora, the returned ghost. she's just cora, sometimes cora the werewolf, sometimes cora the pain in the ass, and, mostly always, cora the scowler. ]
[ but she figures it's his size. he's as tall as a mountain and as broad as one, too. she wonders how the sun even gets around him, but, then again, he is the sun. ]
[ she leans her body forward in a bid to gain the upper hand with the holding of the pillow. if she tugs it just right — at the right moment, at the right time, with the right amount of force — he'll give. she just has to wait. she narrows her eyes: ] Why?
[ There's some kind of delight in getting Cora to roll her eyes at him, and Jacob just grins like a damn sunbeam at her in response, instead of being bothered by it.
There's an oldness to the wolves in Forks, but at the same time they're not world weary. Looking at Derek, looking at Cora, they're world weary. His pack is old like wood, like the forest that surrounds their home, living and growing. The Hales are old like ruins, aging and crumbling and needing rebuilt. And maybe that's why they're in Forks, why they're on their quest for information and old family secrets that are tucked away in their cross-country quest. Together they're a foundation, but there are so many setbacks that keep them from rising as they should.
But at the same time, he doesn't seem them as the ruins that they make themselves out to be. They're just them. Cora's brother can be funny, and he's actually pretty nice despite the gruff exterior displays. In the same vein, Cora's sarcastic bite hides softness that he weasels out of her. They're just made of complex layers, and he likes them as they are. He'd just like it if they were happier.
Like it if Cora was happier.
Shifting to sit up a little more, he curls in towards her as she leans in, fingers secured loosely around the pillow. There are others he can use for weaponry, if he really wants to, but right now he's mostly just focusing on her, eyes scanning her face as she narrows her eyes at him. Much as she scowls at him, he's used to this. ] Why not?
[ he can't hear her thoughts, yet, he reacts as though he does. he's not meant to be gripping the pillow any tighter than he is right now. he's not supposed to be thinking along the same lines as her. him leaning forward was meant to give her the chance to pull it from his grip and slap him hard in the chest with it — harder than she did before. ]
[ he's always throwing kinks into her plans. the days she wants to be scowly and tragic cora end up being ones where she feels as though she's that carefree little girl she used to be, but taller and wiser and with a few more scars. they don't feel as heavy, though. she's sure this is what the gang at beacon hills may have been like, if the world wasn't falling down around them every other day. she doesn't know if derek would be like this; his walls are tall and incredibly dense that not even someone with a jackhammer could make it crumble. ]
[ but if jacob has walls, he allows the sun to shine through. he's blinding, sometimes, in how he is. he's unlike many people cora knows; so sunny and so bright and always laughing. it's those moments when he's not that she wants to know why. she'll punch whoever it is that has caused him to stop. (she always think it's a girl. isn't it always a girl?) ]
[ cora keeps her eyes narrowed. he's going to give himself away, somehow; he'll falter in his grip and that's when she'll be able to strike. but she's starting to think that this strategy is caving in on itself; whenever she pushes jacob, he pushes back, never one to ever relent. it's only at the cliffs that he falls — and that's because of gravity. and, she thinks he lets it; it's his way of wanting her to feel just a little powerful in seeing the big, broad alpha fall into the watery depths below. ]
[ Fingers flexing in the bed where he supports his weight, he tilts his head the slightest bit towards her and feels his expression softening. Cora doesn't like not having answers, and he's figured that much out in their time together. Which means that he will absolutely tease her before he actually answers, or shows her, drawing it out and making it worth asking. Because damn, is she proud, too.
It's fun, doing this. The rough edges don't quite disappear, but the the darkness fades and gives way to something brighter. Shaped as she is by her past, Cora is more than it and Jacob knows it. All it is is just a matter of finding it, pushing as much as she pushes at him and seeing what will happen. But sometimes, he stops pushing and just lets her release, and the fact that she can do that at all with him just warms something in his chest.
This is drastically different from what he's dealt with, before, and it's refreshing. Much as he acts bright, upbeat and friendly, he can remember moments where he could certainly fit in with their guests. But not everything is about darker times, and he'll remember that every time it starts to loom over him. It's impossible to always be bright, but at least he knows his way out of it, and can help people stuck similarly.
He gives a faint tug to the pillow, grip firm in that moment before relaxing again. Teasing, waiting to see what she does with the pillow. ]
It finally sunk in? [ A faint chuckle leaves him. What comes out next is definitely a joke: ] It's good quiet time weather?
[ he relaxes his grip, but, cora does hesitate. she's all about action; she charged at aiden, fully knowing he could break almost every bone in her body without even moving his own. but she did it because she felt she had to. inaction is never an answer for her; she has to move, constantly, to make sure that she's untouchable, that, somehow, she's left her mark on the world just in case. it's because of the hales being immobilised that they all perished in flames. ]
[ cora won't allow that. and even though jacob is nothing like fire, sometimes, he still burns her when he's around. and it's that that she can't quite understand, despite knowing full well why she gives him the power to even be able to inflict such things upon her. enjoying his company is like being out in the sun for too long; it sometimes makes her head spin and her neck feel hot and all she wants to do is dive into the water below. ]
[ she wants to roll her eyes again, but she has a feeling he'll just mock her like he had a few moments ago. he's so predictable in his teenage boy childishness that she almost wants to scoff. ]
No. [ cora hale knows one thing about jacob black: nothing ever sinks in. ] And no. [ she decides, then, that it's now or never. he'll continue to hold the pillow while she does, and she has a feeling that if she lets go, he'll send it flying her way within seconds. leaning back, she tries to pull it from his momentarily slackened grip. ] I don't like quiet time.
[ which is the only way cora will ever admit that she likes it when jacob black's voice is all she hears. ]
[ Comparing Jacob to a mountain is a fairly apt description, and not just in size or patience; he doesn't bend, he doesn't break, and he can take practically everything thrown at him. But he can also be just as dangerous as one, a crushing force of nature, and if he wanted to it would be easy to to take Cora's action and turn it against her, break her like the other alphas had fought to.
But he opens his hands to her instead of clenching them into fists. It's not to coddle her or protect her from anything, not when she's seen her fair share of hardships already, but rather to give her somewhere to go when she doesn't want to think of those hardships. And even if she finds herself stuck in the past, he's already decided that he'll weasel his way into those dark corners to pull her back out again. ]
No? [ Even when she doesn't roll her eyes at him, Jacob can see the impulse there. Or at least the urge to make some kind of face at him, besides the scowl she's trying to make real. He'll keep prodding until it's wavered, soft around the edges. Even the smallest quirk is like gold, considering how rarely he gives them up, and he's maybe a little addicted to getting them now. ]
Hey-- [ Well, he's not surprised she snatches the pillow away from his grip, though he could put up a greater fight. Instead he just laughs and tips his head towards her, brows raising even as the corners of his eyes pinch with a smile. ] No matter how many times you tell me to shut up?
[ cora won't lie; she's a little disappointed he doesn't fight back. but she thinks that disappointment stems from all the pent up frustration she still feels, even after all this time, at the fact that nobody does anything. no one moves, no one fights back, no come claims vengeance. she doesn't understand it, the inability to hit back, even when it's just all fun and games. she's been on edge for so long that she finds it difficult, in most situations, to back away from it. ]
[ maybe that's why, after some time, she's the one who initiates half of the cliff-diving. if she can't emotionally push herself off the edge, she might as well do it literally. she won't ever give voice to the gratitude she has for jacob for that, for her new-found ability to let go. ]
[ now she's digging herself quite a hole. and she knows, come tomorrow, that he'll remember this conversation, especially the moment she tells him to shut up. she does it because — well, it's a little expected of her at times. she's the grump, he's the sun, and she tries to dampen his brightness down a few pegs. telling him to be quiet has the exact opposite effect, and, maybe, she does it on purpose. ]
[ cora opens her mouth, then closes it, pressing hard down on her lips in annoyance. instead of giving a lame answer a voice, she, instead, decides to whack him with the pillow. not once, but twice. and maybe a few times after that. ]
[ There's no denying that Cora is all action, even when stationary. It's like she's thrumming with the energy beneath her skin. And Jacob's not oblivious to it, or her need for action even when they're at ease like this. But he's also not oblivious to the fact that she's let go around him, found somewhere to channel all that energy, which is a stark contrast to how she was back when she and her brother first arrived in Forks.
So he encourages that release, hoping to help her and to maybe make things easier for her while she's here. Because he knows, eventually, that the Hales are going to leave this place on their continuing quest and their escape from Beacon Hills. Maybe they'll come back sometime, but he's going to hold onto this while he still can, and this thing that he and Cora have.
Hell if he knows what to describe it as, but he looks forward to it every day by this point. Cora might liken herself to a cloud, raining on his sunny parade, but he likes the grumpy cloud of a girl. She's his grumpy cloud, and if he can brighten her a little then he'll do what he can to get there. ]
Oh come on-- [ She keeps hitting him, and he decides he's had enough of it without retribution. Reaching to snag one of her other pillows, he swings it around to hit her back, baring his teeth in a mock-snarl, all-smile. ]
it is important for you to know that i wrote this tag while on holiday because you suck
Hey! [ the pillow attacking him stops. she holds her weapon up, covering her face as a shield against his new way of attack. she'd been hitting him with more than a pillow since the day they met; with her words, her distance, her stone walls. cora knows how to throw a punch, there's no doubt that she understands the physical nature of fighting, but when it comes to not closing all doors and windows to someone possibly getting to know her, it's still something new. she struggles to find a balance with even her brother. but she forgets, sometimes, that jacob black isn't an unmoving wall; he strikes back. she'd been wondering when he would — if he would — for he never struck her as the type to simply take shit from those he cares about. (and he doesn't. cora's blind to seeing that him sticking around is him fighting her every step of the way.) ]
[ supposedly cares about. it's weird to think of herself as someone he could care about. he's the sun and she's the cloud. don't clouds block the warmth of the sun? ]
[ she chooses to reprimand him instead. she frowns, her tone serious. ] You're not supposed to fight back.
[ cora doesn't know why she does it. lingering. she's not someone who lingers. ]
[ she's a ghost who haunts the memories of those who once knew her; she knows derek looks down upon her, expecting to see that little girl who lives on in his memory. that eleven year old girl who looked up at him as though he were the moon of her life, and her sister the stars. but she's not that little girl anymore. that little girl lingers, almost like a footprint in a fossil, while she moves on, trying to leave no trace of herself behind. it's easier that way, living almost off the grid; she hadn't existed for half of these people for years. it's difficult trying to break through that barrier, even now, even when she has all the reasons to do so. ]
[ but she lingers, like lydia's scream. that scream had been a high pitch, something headache inducing, a sound that she feels haunts the nightmares she has of her sister dying at the hands of her uncle and her family burning to ash. it's now like the soundtrack to the memories she wishes weren't real at all. she can't simply leave derek behind, or the pack, or these hopeless kids who find themselves into trouble simply by breathing. it'd be easier to cut ties and leave, but she finds that she can't bring herself to do so. ]
[ how are they supposed to protect lydia when they can't even protect themselves? she's the one with the target on her back. she's the one who had called for her attack dog to stop back in the locker rooms all those weeks ago, back when she didn't owe cora anything, even now, when she owes her nothing, she lets her follow her and talk to her and almost be friendly with her. ]
[ she doesn't enrol into the school, but she walks the hallways, sits in on classes, and tries to eat lunch with the gang like a normal teenage girl her age. now, she sits in the library, across from lydia who pours through a book while cora tries to keep a hold on her attention span. being normal is boring. being normal is weird. cora doesn't know how to be a kid anymore. tapping her pen quickly against the table, she looks around with a sigh. ]
[ she thinks about saying something to lydia, but her companion is busy, as she always is, being smart and normal and too good for the people who wander the halls of the school. she wonders why aiden has her attention. what does that werewolf have that some other guy, someone worthy of someone like lydia, doesn't? ]
[ she hates that she even thinks about this. ]
[ after a quick surveillance of the library, more taps of her pen, and a flick of one or two pages, she sighs loudly. ]
told you there will be spam you couldn't hide this post from me B)
[ cora feels the ice-cream melt onto her fingertips. it's sticky and cold and she wants to toss the cones away, but stiles' back is to her, paying for something that was his idea. he won't let her do anything. it's his shout. he's the boss. let him do what he wants, he's trying to be nice. we're friends, that's what friends do for each other. cora's not sure if she can soften her grip enough to not break the cones. it doesn't seem very friendly if she does break them, even if he laughs about it in the end. ]
[ this is out of her depth, being friendly, having friends, holding ice-creams in her hands while they both melt and someone else pays for her. being out at two in the morning for an ice-cream run because both of them just happened to have been skipped over by the sandman is unusual for her. insomnia's beginning to become a bigger enemy than deucalion, and, yet, here she is, outside, in the middle of the night, with stiles, holding ice-cream rather than fighting it. ]
[ and stiles is taking his time, too. doesn't he know how impatient she is? it's humid, even at this time of night; her hair is sticking to her neck, and her hands are stuck to the cones. ]
I'm going to lick your ice-cream if you don't hurry up.
[ being friendly and normal while also trying to maintain a hard edge is a difficult thing to balance. and she doubts that stiles will care if she takes a lick of his ice-cream. she has a feeling that he's the type of guy who will eat it, even if it's been dropped on the floor. ]
[ okay, so, maybe cora has a few things to learn about stiles. the first being, he's not that disgusting. ]
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no subject
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is this a trick question?
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why are you asking me about pizza?
[ homegirl is clueless in social interactions 101. ]
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because i want pizza and if you like pizza we should get said pizza. simultaneously.
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i'm asking you to get lunch with me, how is this not clear?
[ they are both bad at this game. ]
no subject
[ she sends another text, just a minute or so later. ]
i'm leaving now, in case that wasn't clear.
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wait, is that a yes?
[ he gets the second text and basically barrels out of the house after a bit of a double take. this was not the response he was expecting. he might get there embarrassingly waaay before she does too. ]
i want you to know that i am loving this
[ it's no surprise he's here. already. she sidles up next to him. ]
You weren't waiting long?
good so am i :3c yay awkward teen fluff
his head turns to the door the second it opens ( and has for ever other person that walked in ) and he's smiling with a wave before she's even crossed the threshold. ]
No, just like, ten, fifteen—nineteen minutes. [ awkward considering she's technically closer to this place. ]
Here take this and chuckle more.
oh my god i'm about to cry
[ they sit in her room; it's a little try-hard girly. at a garage sale, on one of the very rare days of sunshine and warmth, derek had bought her some fairy lights she couldn't quite let herself let go of. stuck to the wall above the headrest, they line her bed with brighter light than the dull lightbulb above them. it's raining hard outside, preventing them — or her, really, when she's the one who says it's too dangerous to do a deadly activity in such horrible weather — from living a little on the wild side. cliff-diving really isn't something cora particularly likes doing, but, it makes her feel a little freer when they do it. she's invincible. nothing can touch her. not even the waves as she crashes into them. but forks still can, with it's arm extended rather miserably towards her. ]
[ jacob's being annoying, radiating so much heat. he's being awfully quiet, too. she doesn't like it. sparing him a glance, she sees the fairy lights light up his skin in such a warm way that he reminds her of the sun on the best days of beacon hills. she's gotten so used to hearing him practically narrate her life that she isn't quite sure what to do when she can hear herself think. ]
[ so, she does the only thing she can think of. glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she slowly leans towards the headrest of her bed, fingers locking on a plump pillow ... ]
[ cora whacks him with it. hard. ]
Shhh just let it out.
But the one thing he takes the most interest in is a person, and seeing how often he can make her crack a smile instead of perpetually frowning. Cora is smaller than Leah, but he's pretty sure she's about as fierce and maybe twice as tenacious. He's probably playing with fire in this regard, but it's just easy to poke fun at her, until she finally either humors him or snaps. And while he doesn't know which one he likes more, he does really enjoy the fact that she's not one to bullshit, and that she's not in the least bit humbled by the fact that he's an alpha or twice her size.
Her room is a familiar place by this point, just as familiar is she is, and at the moment he's distracted by the lights above them. Honestly, Jacob likes them; they're bright in a way that Forks rarely ever is, like the Beacon Hills that he gets her to talk about with enough pestering. While he's used to his dreary Washington home, he grew up with it and hasn't really known anything else but cloudy skies and rocky cliffs. A part of him would like to see if he can take his pack to California for a while, to see the place he only knows from stories. Mostly, he just wants to see what Cora used to call her home, before things changed for the worst. Details aren't ever really shared, but he notices the way she stops talking about certain things, shuts them down and moves onto something else or just gets up and leaves.
So far into his thoughts, drifting from the girl he can feel moving next to him to what he can show her about Forks to prove it's not all dreary monotone and boredom to her again, he doesn't realize why she's moving until he's whacked with a pillow.
It makes him jolt upright a little and onto his elbows, spluttering surprise. ] What was that for?
i am just so delighted i start to laugh! ❤
You're being weird.
[ she thinks about hitting him again, but, perhaps that'll be too much too soon. he has to earn it, not like how he has to earn the little things she says about beacon hills. she's let it slip, every now and then, when she's too comfortable, that, sometimes, the wolf he shifts into reminds her of her mother. she sometimes wishes derek had the kind of pack he did; one that didn't waver in loyalty, one that didn't look for another, one that stayed true because of kinship. cora finds herself at odds, sometimes, with the memories of the boys back home. maybe it's the weather that affects them; the rain makes these wolves so miserable they stay within the same circle while the warmer weather of california sends them in a restless run for another leader to follow. but the thing is, it is comfortable being around jacob. cora's only ever felt this a few times since her return to beacon hills. ]
[ she narrows her eyes slightly. she doesn't take them off of him, doesn't move to put her pillow back in place. she simply holds onto it loosely, keeping it between them. ] When you're quiet, it means you're up to something.
Yeah that's definitely it. ❤
Weird?
[ He honestly expects to be hit again, and he should probably assess the fact that he's fine with it. This is another pack's wolf, just casually hitting him with things. It's not exactly the first time she's done it, either, but he sort of brings those moments upon himself more than anything else. He knows her well enough to know which buttons he can press to get her riled up, even if it's in play. But he also knows her quiet moments, knows that he can reach out to a part of her past just by brushing his muzzle against her hand when he's shifted, big as a bear and bright as amber. Sometimes, he wishes he could offer something more than sanctuary in Forks, than the attempts to help them figure out that form that their mother once had. But he doesn't know what, so he just focuses on trying to brighten Cora's day, somehow. ]
I'm not even doing anything! [ Much as he protests, it's contradicted by the crooked smile he gives her. ] What, miss me talking your ear off?
it is! it's delight! i would throw myself off a cliff in delight over this! ❤
[ jacob talking is a little like stiles, but, she sometimes thinks the human speaks to her with the tiniest lick of fear. she doesn't know why. she does, sometimes, think it's because of her brother. or perhaps it's because of peter; he does enough to turn most off of the hale family name. but jacob doesn't; he talks and talks and talks to the point where she's either pushing him off a cliff or throwing herself from one. she doesn't do it in a bid to escape him, either. just as she suspects he's trying to get a laugh from her, she does it to get one from him. it's difficult to make derek laugh these days; hearing it from someone else, to know that it's not a sound that's becoming extinct, gives her hope that one day she'll hear it again. ]
[ also, jacob is dumb. dumb in the sense that he doesn't know these things, doesn't know peter, doesn't know laura, doesn't know derek or herself. he can't hold her up against the tales of the poor hale family, burnt alive in their house. he only knows what she tells him, or what derek tries to keep hidden. he doesn't look at her brother and see a lost little boy; he just sees derek as he is now. she can tell him the good things about peter, and remember her uncle for the man she had always thought him to be, not the monster he truly was. it helps her cope with her own denial; it's difficult piecing the two peters together, just as it's been difficult reconciling younger derek with this more jaded version of himself. ]
[ and he's also just dumb. don't ask cora why. ]
If the room isn't filled with your voice, you make it so. [ she lifts the pillow and hits him, lightly on the arm. ] You're being weird.
LET'S GO CLIFF-DIVING THEN. ❤
Sometimes, he knows that he's an escape for her. But it's not in the same way that Bella had treated him at one point, so he's more all right with it. He knows things from both of the Hale siblings, enough to piece together that life had been rough and things had once been better, nearly a decade ago. Derek doesn't talk to him as much as Cora does, at least not in the same way, but he can tell that he's slowly easing up on that refined wall that both of them keep up around themselves. It's a lot higher than Cora's, and harder to infiltrate, but sometimes he'll catch Derek sitting on his phone and just texting somebody, and he's barely known him for very long but he finds it to be the most surreal image. So he figures someone's made their way in, somehow, and he focuses on weakening and climbing the one that the younger sister has set up.
And maybe she's a bit of an escape for him, too, but really all he wants is to get that amusement out to the surface. From what little he knows, what little she'll tell him that dips into darker memories, he thinks she deserves a bit of happiness. Even if she's laughing at him doing dumb things, like narrating every little thing she does or making fun of her scowling faces or getting her to join him in poking fun of people (even if they can hear them at their lowest whisper, and will wind up glaring at them). If anything, he just likes to hear her laugh.
Pursing his lips in response to the pillow bapping him in the arm, he reaches out to snag an opposite corner of it from hers. ] Maybe I'm giving you that peace and quiet you keep asking me to give you. What about that, huh?
RACE YOU! ❤
[ she'll say she doesn't know why she hangs out with him, but she does. he's close to her age, just like derek's ex-pack was, but he doesn't act like a kid. he does, at times, with his childish remarks, but, there's an older air to him that makes her think he's seen and experienced things the kids back in beacon hills have yet to do. maybe it's because he's from a different breed of werewolf, or because washington is simply different to california, or because he's just different himself that makes him seem a lot more older than he appears. ]
[ but when she's with him, she doesn't feel misplaced. she's not cora, the returned ghost. she's just cora, sometimes cora the werewolf, sometimes cora the pain in the ass, and, mostly always, cora the scowler. ]
[ but she figures it's his size. he's as tall as a mountain and as broad as one, too. she wonders how the sun even gets around him, but, then again, he is the sun. ]
[ she leans her body forward in a bid to gain the upper hand with the holding of the pillow. if she tugs it just right — at the right moment, at the right time, with the right amount of force — he'll give. she just has to wait. she narrows her eyes: ] Why?
PCHOO ❤
There's an oldness to the wolves in Forks, but at the same time they're not world weary. Looking at Derek, looking at Cora, they're world weary. His pack is old like wood, like the forest that surrounds their home, living and growing. The Hales are old like ruins, aging and crumbling and needing rebuilt. And maybe that's why they're in Forks, why they're on their quest for information and old family secrets that are tucked away in their cross-country quest. Together they're a foundation, but there are so many setbacks that keep them from rising as they should.
But at the same time, he doesn't seem them as the ruins that they make themselves out to be. They're just them. Cora's brother can be funny, and he's actually pretty nice despite the gruff exterior displays. In the same vein, Cora's sarcastic bite hides softness that he weasels out of her. They're just made of complex layers, and he likes them as they are. He'd just like it if they were happier.
Like it if Cora was happier.
Shifting to sit up a little more, he curls in towards her as she leans in, fingers secured loosely around the pillow. There are others he can use for weaponry, if he really wants to, but right now he's mostly just focusing on her, eyes scanning her face as she narrows her eyes at him. Much as she scowls at him, he's used to this. ] Why not?
i hate you ❤
[ he's always throwing kinks into her plans. the days she wants to be scowly and tragic cora end up being ones where she feels as though she's that carefree little girl she used to be, but taller and wiser and with a few more scars. they don't feel as heavy, though. she's sure this is what the gang at beacon hills may have been like, if the world wasn't falling down around them every other day. she doesn't know if derek would be like this; his walls are tall and incredibly dense that not even someone with a jackhammer could make it crumble. ]
[ but if jacob has walls, he allows the sun to shine through. he's blinding, sometimes, in how he is. he's unlike many people cora knows; so sunny and so bright and always laughing. it's those moments when he's not that she wants to know why. she'll punch whoever it is that has caused him to stop. (she always think it's a girl. isn't it always a girl?) ]
[ cora keeps her eyes narrowed. he's going to give himself away, somehow; he'll falter in his grip and that's when she'll be able to strike. but she's starting to think that this strategy is caving in on itself; whenever she pushes jacob, he pushes back, never one to ever relent. it's only at the cliffs that he falls — and that's because of gravity. and, she thinks he lets it; it's his way of wanting her to feel just a little powerful in seeing the big, broad alpha fall into the watery depths below. ]
Why the peace and quiet now?
I hate you too ❤
It's fun, doing this. The rough edges don't quite disappear, but the the darkness fades and gives way to something brighter. Shaped as she is by her past, Cora is more than it and Jacob knows it. All it is is just a matter of finding it, pushing as much as she pushes at him and seeing what will happen. But sometimes, he stops pushing and just lets her release, and the fact that she can do that at all with him just warms something in his chest.
This is drastically different from what he's dealt with, before, and it's refreshing. Much as he acts bright, upbeat and friendly, he can remember moments where he could certainly fit in with their guests. But not everything is about darker times, and he'll remember that every time it starts to loom over him. It's impossible to always be bright, but at least he knows his way out of it, and can help people stuck similarly.
He gives a faint tug to the pillow, grip firm in that moment before relaxing again. Teasing, waiting to see what she does with the pillow. ]
It finally sunk in? [ A faint chuckle leaves him. What comes out next is definitely a joke: ] It's good quiet time weather?
SO MUCH ❤
[ cora won't allow that. and even though jacob is nothing like fire, sometimes, he still burns her when he's around. and it's that that she can't quite understand, despite knowing full well why she gives him the power to even be able to inflict such things upon her. enjoying his company is like being out in the sun for too long; it sometimes makes her head spin and her neck feel hot and all she wants to do is dive into the water below. ]
[ she wants to roll her eyes again, but she has a feeling he'll just mock her like he had a few moments ago. he's so predictable in his teenage boy childishness that she almost wants to scoff. ]
No. [ cora hale knows one thing about jacob black: nothing ever sinks in. ] And no. [ she decides, then, that it's now or never. he'll continue to hold the pillow while she does, and she has a feeling that if she lets go, he'll send it flying her way within seconds. leaning back, she tries to pull it from his momentarily slackened grip. ] I don't like quiet time.
[ which is the only way cora will ever admit that she likes it when jacob black's voice is all she hears. ]
MY LOATHING IS LIMITLESS ❤
But he opens his hands to her instead of clenching them into fists. It's not to coddle her or protect her from anything, not when she's seen her fair share of hardships already, but rather to give her somewhere to go when she doesn't want to think of those hardships. And even if she finds herself stuck in the past, he's already decided that he'll weasel his way into those dark corners to pull her back out again. ]
No? [ Even when she doesn't roll her eyes at him, Jacob can see the impulse there. Or at least the urge to make some kind of face at him, besides the scowl she's trying to make real. He'll keep prodding until it's wavered, soft around the edges. Even the smallest quirk is like gold, considering how rarely he gives them up, and he's maybe a little addicted to getting them now. ]
Hey-- [ Well, he's not surprised she snatches the pillow away from his grip, though he could put up a greater fight. Instead he just laughs and tips his head towards her, brows raising even as the corners of his eyes pinch with a smile. ] No matter how many times you tell me to shut up?
LIKE MY LOVE FOR YOU ❤
[ maybe that's why, after some time, she's the one who initiates half of the cliff-diving. if she can't emotionally push herself off the edge, she might as well do it literally. she won't ever give voice to the gratitude she has for jacob for that, for her new-found ability to let go. ]
[ now she's digging herself quite a hole. and she knows, come tomorrow, that he'll remember this conversation, especially the moment she tells him to shut up. she does it because — well, it's a little expected of her at times. she's the grump, he's the sun, and she tries to dampen his brightness down a few pegs. telling him to be quiet has the exact opposite effect, and, maybe, she does it on purpose. ]
[ cora opens her mouth, then closes it, pressing hard down on her lips in annoyance. instead of giving a lame answer a voice, she, instead, decides to whack him with the pillow. not once, but twice. and maybe a few times after that. ]
AND MINE FOR YOU ❤
So he encourages that release, hoping to help her and to maybe make things easier for her while she's here. Because he knows, eventually, that the Hales are going to leave this place on their continuing quest and their escape from Beacon Hills. Maybe they'll come back sometime, but he's going to hold onto this while he still can, and this thing that he and Cora have.
Hell if he knows what to describe it as, but he looks forward to it every day by this point. Cora might liken herself to a cloud, raining on his sunny parade, but he likes the grumpy cloud of a girl. She's his grumpy cloud, and if he can brighten her a little then he'll do what he can to get there. ]
Oh come on-- [ She keeps hitting him, and he decides he's had enough of it without retribution. Reaching to snag one of her other pillows, he swings it around to hit her back, baring his teeth in a mock-snarl, all-smile. ]
it is important for you to know that i wrote this tag while on holiday because you suck
[ supposedly cares about. it's weird to think of herself as someone he could care about. he's the sun and she's the cloud. don't clouds block the warmth of the sun? ]
[ she chooses to reprimand him instead. she frowns, her tone serious. ] You're not supposed to fight back.
[ except he is. ]
[ and he does. ]
[ of course. ]
[ hasn't he been fighting her all this time? ]
my turn to invade the cora post
this is so not what i wanted!
[ she's a ghost who haunts the memories of those who once knew her; she knows derek looks down upon her, expecting to see that little girl who lives on in his memory. that eleven year old girl who looked up at him as though he were the moon of her life, and her sister the stars. but she's not that little girl anymore. that little girl lingers, almost like a footprint in a fossil, while she moves on, trying to leave no trace of herself behind. it's easier that way, living almost off the grid; she hadn't existed for half of these people for years. it's difficult trying to break through that barrier, even now, even when she has all the reasons to do so. ]
[ but she lingers, like lydia's scream. that scream had been a high pitch, something headache inducing, a sound that she feels haunts the nightmares she has of her sister dying at the hands of her uncle and her family burning to ash. it's now like the soundtrack to the memories she wishes weren't real at all. she can't simply leave derek behind, or the pack, or these hopeless kids who find themselves into trouble simply by breathing. it'd be easier to cut ties and leave, but she finds that she can't bring herself to do so. ]
[ how are they supposed to protect lydia when they can't even protect themselves? she's the one with the target on her back. she's the one who had called for her attack dog to stop back in the locker rooms all those weeks ago, back when she didn't owe cora anything, even now, when she owes her nothing, she lets her follow her and talk to her and almost be friendly with her. ]
[ she doesn't enrol into the school, but she walks the hallways, sits in on classes, and tries to eat lunch with the gang like a normal teenage girl her age. now, she sits in the library, across from lydia who pours through a book while cora tries to keep a hold on her attention span. being normal is boring. being normal is weird. cora doesn't know how to be a kid anymore. tapping her pen quickly against the table, she looks around with a sigh. ]
[ she thinks about saying something to lydia, but her companion is busy, as she always is, being smart and normal and too good for the people who wander the halls of the school. she wonders why aiden has her attention. what does that werewolf have that some other guy, someone worthy of someone like lydia, doesn't? ]
[ she hates that she even thinks about this. ]
[ after a quick surveillance of the library, more taps of her pen, and a flick of one or two pages, she sighs loudly. ]
told you there will be spam you couldn't hide this post from me B)
bans you from everything ever
[ cora feels the ice-cream melt onto her fingertips. it's sticky and cold and she wants to toss the cones away, but stiles' back is to her, paying for something that was his idea. he won't let her do anything. it's his shout. he's the boss. let him do what he wants, he's trying to be nice. we're friends, that's what friends do for each other. cora's not sure if she can soften her grip enough to not break the cones. it doesn't seem very friendly if she does break them, even if he laughs about it in the end. ]
[ this is out of her depth, being friendly, having friends, holding ice-creams in her hands while they both melt and someone else pays for her. being out at two in the morning for an ice-cream run because both of them just happened to have been skipped over by the sandman is unusual for her. insomnia's beginning to become a bigger enemy than deucalion, and, yet, here she is, outside, in the middle of the night, with stiles, holding ice-cream rather than fighting it. ]
[ and stiles is taking his time, too. doesn't he know how impatient she is? it's humid, even at this time of night; her hair is sticking to her neck, and her hands are stuck to the cones. ]
I'm going to lick your ice-cream if you don't hurry up.
[ being friendly and normal while also trying to maintain a hard edge is a difficult thing to balance. and she doubts that stiles will care if she takes a lick of his ice-cream. she has a feeling that he's the type of guy who will eat it, even if it's been dropped on the floor. ]
[ okay, so, maybe cora has a few things to learn about stiles. the first being, he's not that disgusting. ]