'The view from down here isn't so bad' Tristan thought as he laid back against the ground with Malia standing over him.
"Are you going to just gape from down there or are you going to get up any time soon? We still have a bit over an hour and I need to work out some muscle kinks." She grabbed his hands and forcefully pulled him up to his feet before lowering herself to a fighting stance.
Tristan grumbled under his breath but still held up his hands which gained him a feral grin that would have ticked his fancy had it been any other time.
After their morning run which they hardly do nowadays since Tristan had gotten a lot faster after gulping down Peter's blood, much to Malia's annoyance as she could no longer keep up with him, they went back to combat training – something none of them liked.
Well in Malia's case, it was that she couldn't maul her opponents which left her always feeling half-full after sparring with anyone.
At least that was how it used to be until Tristan's regeneration speed increased, once again thanks to Peter.
THUD.
"Mind easing up a bit?" Tristan groaned as he picked himself up off the ground.
Why was he the one being thrown around?
Given the fact that he had to lower his speed to match Malia's and also restricted from using his blood, some would think that he still had an undeniable edge over Malia but they couldn't be more wrong.
Unlike Tristan's coldblooded nature which was stealthy, precise and aimed to kill from the go, Malia was more feral and as someone who wholly accepted her bestial nature, it only made her stronger.
And yes, that meant to evenly match Tristan on the same level.
While Tristan was the most lethal one of the two, Malia was the more rabid one that you'd rather stay away from.
"Are you even putting your mind to it?" Malia huffed while holding her ribs from the kick Tristan gave her.
"I'm literally holding back, Malia. How much more should I put my mind to it?" Tristan sarcastically retorted.
And with those words went away the thought of being a little too restricting on his abilities. She rushed at him and he received her first few blows with masterful parries and deflections.
From an elbow strike to a leg sweep, Tristan tried his best to maintain his tempo of killing her momentum with every move she made which meant he received more blows than he dealt.
Malia relied mostly on her animal instincts when she fought, something Tristan knew very well, and she knew that Tristan focused on quick crippling blows with every opening he finds – A pair of polar opposites that perfectly balanced each other.
And that was why Malia found herself falling to the ground after Tristan kicked the back of her knee to follow up with an elbow jab to the side of face.
"Can we just go?" Tristan said with measured breaths before helping her up.
Malia rolled her eyes. "Time is not up yet. And don't think I didn't notice how your reaction spiked for a moment there."
Tristan just smiled weakly and remained silent. "That's 6 – 8 by the way." He reminded but Malia didn't feel satisfied with that information despite her leading.
For him to easily keep up with her despite him restricting himself that much showed just how stronger than her she was getting.
"Fine. Two more wins to top it off and we'll stop." She said and started the next round.
She did end up winning the last rounds and had to compensate Tristan with a longer drink which left her feeling woozy for quite some time. She had to pay for bullying him the way she did and Tristan only stopped when he knew she was about passing out.
"I'm bored." Malia whined.
"I've been saying that for months now, so try another one." Tristan commented blandly and Malia flipped him off.
"How do normal teenagers do it that they always look as if they don't have enough hours in a day?"
"Probably because they know they might not do it later, or have the time for it when they grow older. It's the same with us but I guess they have the edge since they try to plan out for their future." Tristan said absentmindedly as he lay sprawled on the ground with Malia.
"So we don't have a future plan?" She asked, somehow sounding shocked by it.
"No, Malia. We don't." Tristan said before adding. "And no, I don't think selling guns is a plan that actually motivates us to enjoy our teenage years."
"Oh..." Oh indeed. "So why don't we have a future plan? We have to think of one so we won't be bored every time."
"I don't know if you're being absolutely clueless or actually serious, but I'll admit what you said has some merits to it."
They then fell silent as they laid on the floor with only the ticking sound of the wall clock sounding in the room, creating a soothing mood in the living room.
"I'm hungry." Malia's words shattered the serenity they were just enjoying.
"Food or blood?"
"Hmm, blood for now." She decided. Tristan moved his left arm over his head and it landed in Malia's open mouth which would have painted a funny picture had anyone been here to see it.
She took a small drink and released his hand after cleaning the blood trailing down it.
"Ahh, that hit the spot." She moaned in satisfaction.
…..
"I think today is Gerard's burial." Malia once again destroyed the tranquil peace.
"That doesn't concern us in any way, Malia."
"Hmm, that's true."
…..
"You haven't been training your blood control for some time now, why?"
"I'm trying to figure something else out. Not that I'm having any progress. Guess that's what you get when you don't even know what you are trying to do in the first place."
Another ability? She was a little bit surprised as that would mean that Tristan had something else he could do other than blood control, twice better than werewolves and the like which only came with the standard supernatural package.
"Can you turn into bats? You know, like Dracula?" She pondered out loud.
Tristan wanted to deny that but he held himself back and only gave an unsure reply. "Maybe. I have no idea but it's still within the realms of possibilities."
He still had no idea what he could and couldn't do. No one did, not even Satomi.
"Would have been better if there was someone you could ask other than the old nag."
Malia's words rang true and Tristan thought it would have been great if he had someone to talk to that knew about what type of vampire he was or vampires in general. Anyone that is not an Argent that is.
"Oh?" He remembered something he had Derek talked about back then before they fought Peter. It was about Scott's veterinarian boss.
"Derek mentioned something about Scott's boss knowing a lot about the supernatural. We could talk to Derek and ask how trustworthy this guy is." Tristan revealed.
A thought he would never have entertained on any other time as he was actually thankful that only a handful of people outside his pack knew that he was a vampire, but boredom sometimes makes questionable decisions look reasonable.
Malia eagerly agreed. Anything that would stave off how hollow she was currently feeling.
"What about Ms. Morrell? You did say she might know something about supernaturals." Malia added but Tristan shook his head. "Maybe one at a time. I'd rather not talk to someone about me being a vampire when I can't vouch for them not screwing us over."
Malia nodded, accepting that thought, and threw it aside and they set out for Derek.
A duo of lazy teenagers driven away from the comfort of their cozy house by boredom – something that most people could relate to.
Unsurprisingly, Derek was quite shocked that the two of them would take it upon themselves to find him when it didn't involve killing someone. Even more so when he heard why they came.
"Deaton? I don't know if he had knowledge of what you are looking for but I can at least tell that he is not malicious in his dealings. Otherwise our dear Scott would have died without ever knowing how." Derek said.
With their reason for coming here achieved and Tristan rejecting Isaac's invitation for a little bout, something he had noticed for the past week when he started teaming up with Scott to take him down during practice, they left for Deaton's vet clinic.
Tristan's main reason for going there was to see if the man knew anything about vampires and the lore surrounding them rather than learning how to see if he had another ability he could use other than blood control.
TRING. TRING.
The bell at the door's edge rang to signify the arrival of a customer and someone they were familiar with greeted them only to stop halfway after he realized who the new customers were.
"Is your boss around?"
.
.
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