wayward // d. hale

eight

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When Willa wakes the following morning, she's got both a raging migraine and no idea how she ended up in her own bed. The last thing she remembers is having what some might consider a therapeutic conversation with Derek Hale. Although it pisses her off beyond belief that he doesn't like to talk much, it does mean he's a good listener.

She realizes another thing as she's blearily brushing her teethーshe definitely hadn't set her alarm last night, either, which meant Derek had done so for her if he was the one to bring her home. She ignores the way her heart pulls at that simple gesture.

Scott and Melissa are both gone by the time she makes her way downstairs, leaving Willa alone to scrounge up something for breakfast. A huff escapes her at the barren shelves of the cabinets and small pantry. Living with a werewolf absolutely sucksーshe had thought Scott had eaten them out of house and home before turning, but now she's missing those days simply for the lower grocery bill. Willa manages to find the silver packet of poptartsーwhat kind and how old they are she's unsure, but beggars can't be choosers, she guesses.

Once she's in her car and on her way to work, she makes a split-second decision to go get a coffee even though she'll be going out of her way to do so since every place that sells the caffeinated beverage is across the East Hills River.

So with a coffee in hand, she strolls into work all of five minutes late. Willa had also gotten Deaton a cupーplain black, the psychopathーas a peace offering for her tardiness, even if he is what she thinks might be the world's coolest boss.

Deaton's face drops almost comically when she walks through the door to the examination room. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Willa stops mid-stride with a frown pulling at her lips, "I... I work here?"

Deaton rushes toward her side and places a hand on her shoulder gently, then guides her to the rolling stool Scott had brought into the room from behind the front counter. "I meant, Scott told me what happened last night at the video store and I told him to inform you not to come in today. I know that must have been stressful being there and findingー" Deaton cuts himself off, but Willa knows what he had been about to say: finding a dead body. "Anyway, he said he would tell you, but I guess he didn't," he finishes.

Willa's frown deepens, "Really, I'm okay to work, Iー"

Deaton shakes his head resolutely, "I won't hear of it, now get out of here. I'll maybe consider letting you come back tomorrow."

With that, Deaton escorts her to the door and shoos her away when she turns around to protest once more. Willa pouts, but hands him his coffee with a half-hearted see you tomorrow before leaving the clinic.

Now with a free day, she has no clue what she wants to do. Seeing as it's the last day of January, there really isn't all that much going on within Beacon Hills itself, so she's going to have to find something to do herself.

Willa does manage to run a few errands that she was saving for her lunch break today, and happens upon a bookstore she frequented quite a lot in her high school years. The small mom-and-pop shop brings back many memories as the door swings open and she's greeted by the smell of old paper, ink, and leather. The sweet old lady at the check-out counter is the same as well, and Willa's surprised that she remembers her from so many years ago.