The two of them stared speechlessly at each other, words lost from their mouths as it opened and closed but gave out no sound.
Malia didn't know what else to do or say so she just turned to Tristan and gave him a look, words not needed to convey the question in her eyes.
"I've suspected for some time, and truthfully, didn't see any issue with it knowing that she would get over it with time." Tristan replied, explaining why the notion of Allison having a small crush on him didn't bother him that much as she mostly kept it to herself… until the illusion that is.
He could feel and smell people's emotions and interpret their thoughts to an extent by reading their emotions based on how deep or how faint it was, but what he couldn't do was realize how big a tiny spark of emotion could mean to someone.
In his eyes, Allison had a simple crush on him and admired him a great deal. On the other side of the coin, the feeling that that 'simple' crush gave to Allison was something that ran very deep; not with how intense it was but what that tiny feeling meant to her.
She had been respectful and mature about her crush on Tristan, never acting on it in any way for fear of damaging her relationship with both of them, and instead took those small and normal moments she had with him as something special.
Emotions were very hard concepts to control and unintentionally having one as intense as the feelings of passion for someone else was something that was almost impossible to actively discard. Time could either make it simmer down, or rouse it higher like in Allison's case.
"So this is why you asked me that question that day." Malia stated factually, anger slowly building up in her eyes.
"Relax Malia, you know how little control we actually have over our emotions. Can you really be angry at her for what she could not control?" Tristan asked, still standing by the door and ignoring Chris' presence who stood at a considerate distance so as not to eavesdrop on their conversations.
"But she's my BEST FRIEND!" Malia retorted sharply.
"All the mo—"
"Can the two of you stop talking about me and my feelings as if they are inconsequential?" Allison suddenly said with a calm face, though Tristan could see the slight trembling on her lips and an extra sheen on her lower eyelids.
She turned to Malia whose face showed an expression that looked as if she couldn't decide whether to be angry or hurt.
"You can shout, rage and even curse me out for betraying your trust. I never meant to." Allison paused and took a deep resolute breath before continuing on. "I never once thought of trying to compete with you for Tristan's feelings, neither did I hope that you guys broke up. I couldn't even think of acting on them without being disgusted with myself so before you hate me and call me names, know that I've hated and called myself names because of these feelings I never wanted to have."
By the time she finished speaking, the sheen under her eyes were more visible and it did not take much longer before a tear ran down her cheek.
"Well… shit." Tristan cursed under his breath as he was hit with Allison's tears, the truth of her words, and the brunt of how much these feelings must've meant to her.
Malia was hyperventilating at this point, not even caring for Allison's fragile mental state, and would have viciously punched her across the face but she managed to hold herself from mistakenly killing the frail girl and just angrily stomped out of the room.
Allison quietly sobbed while Tristan just stood against the wall near the door, the latter not knowing to say.
'Suck it up? Be more realistic? You're only hurting yourself by not letting go?' He sighed inwardly. 'Saying any of these out loud to her is no different from openly mocking her and spitting on her feelings.'
"I'll call….or probably send a text." Tristan said as he turned to leave. "Take care, Allison. Get some sleep."
He nodded as he walked past Chris but the man just ignored him, something he'd expected was more likely to happen.
Malia was already in the car, one hand held over both of her eyes with her head resting on the neck pillow of the reclined seat.
Tristan said nothing when he opened the door, just kicked the car in gear as he got in and drove away.
...
When she opened her eyes, she instantly realized that she wasn't in her house . She was in a very tight space that was freezing cold, probably 15 – 20 minutes from hypothermia.
"Hello! Someone, anyone, please let me out!" She squeezed her hands and repositioned them so she could knock on the surface of whatever she was kept in, but due to how tight the place was, she could only manage a faint pat in the cold steely surface.
She wasn't claustrophobic but the panic and the cold gave the illusion that the place was getting tighter – even though she knew it wasn't – so she started screaming frantically and moving erratically inside the small steel cage.
Just before she could start banging her head against the cold steel, the doors magically opened and she fell out and rolled into a puddle.
She immediately pushed herself up and checked her surroundings only to once again be surprised when she saw that she fell out from a freezer into a cave.
Searching her pockets, she muttered a grateful thanks when she felt her phone in her pockets and hurriedly turned on the flash.
…..
"KYAHHHHHHHHHH!" Allison woke up with a horror-filled scream, crying and kicking everything around her before she felt a strong pair of arms wrapped soothingly around her.
"It's okay, sweet. You're fine, you're at home." Chris hugged his soullessly scared daughter and comforted her. "It's just a bad dream, Allison. It's just a bad dream."
Allison broke down into incoherent sobs. "I, hic hic, I killed all of them. Hic hic, I killed all my friends. Boyd, Lydia, Tristan, Malia… I killed them all."
Chris vehemently shook his head. "You didn't kill anyone. They are all alive. And no, you won't kill them in the future. I'll make sure of that. That's a promise."
Allison cried and cried, making Chris reassure her time and time again, until she managed to fall asleep. He lifted her shirt a bit and saw the black lightning marks on her back that were an effect of the lichen Deaton fed her except that it had slowly started fading away.
"It's alright, Victoria. I won't let anything happen to our daughter." He comforted his wife who stood at the edge of Allison's bed with deep worry cast over her face.
...
In Tristan and Malia's house, Boyd who had long woken up stared in amazement at his body. While there was absolutely no outward physical difference after his transition, he could feel 'something' from his body, as if telling him that he was no longer human.
Malia had broken down a few trees behind the house after they returned from the Argents before going to sleep, leaving Tristan and Boyd alone to help the latter acclimatize to his new nature.
"So when do I start controlling blood like you do?" Boyd asked with excitement visible in his eyes.
Tristan scoffed derisively at him. "You're a vampire, yes, but a very weak one. Any decently smart and average werewolf out there can kill you with ease, so focus first on becoming the average supernatural if you don't want to die. As for blood control, you need to have drink your fill from dozens of humans to give it a kick start."
Boyd frowned as he remembered that little tidbit. As a former normal everyday teenager, Boyd knew he didn't have what it takes to kill a person. Maybe he would later down the line, but right now he didn't.
Tristan slapped him on the back when he figured out what Boyd was likely thinking. "Just focus on what you can do now. As a vampire, you're innately faster than most supernatural creatures; a little below or equal to a werewolf's strength, and definitely below them in durability. These aspects aren't fixed so you can boost them up with strenuous training."
"Okay, coach." Boyd slapped himself and got serious. "So what's first on my timetable?"
Tristan held out his hand to Boyd who unhesitatingly grabbed it. "The closest friend and a vampire's greatest helper – pain."
SNAP.
Boyd fell to his knees with a pained scream as Tristan casually shattered his wrist.
"Ugh… Hrnng… RARGHH!"
"That and knowing when and not to shift, and how to utilize it very well." Tristan casually continued as Boyd's eyes glowed a dark yellow as his shift was subconsciously triggered.
"Pain is an effective switch, might not be the most efficient, but it's down right a damn effective one."
Boyd was snarling wildly at him, his wrist already relocated, but all this did was put a smile on his face.
CRACK.
The glow in Boyd's eyes disappeared as his optical orbs rolled into his head as he collapsed face flat onto the ground. The pain was so great that the only thing he could let out was a whining groan.
"This is your first lesson – be familiar with pain. Learn to endure it, learn to feel it, and know when to draw from it." Tristan explained but Boyd could only reply with whining groans. "On the flip side, congratulations. You achieved your first shift in record time."
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