c: malcolm mcgonagall

Our Scars remind us - Malcolm/Erin

Malcolm felt like it had been forever and a day since he last visited his sisters. He’d taken a bit of a beating all thanks to Xylander and if truth be told, he didn’t fancy having a conversation about his bruises. Of course he healed fast, but being attacked by a superior pack member didn’t leave just any old wounds, they left visible marks that faded slowly, it was a pack thing, a show of his insubordination to others that might of felt the same.

It hadn’t really been forever, but sat in his room, hiding away from his family, made it all seem longer. He could hear James and Xy talking about him that night, and had a small altercation with his Alpha too. Right now, he just didn’t want to be here or be with the pack but he would never leave. He’d made too many promises to walk away, to James, to Erin, and to Albus.

Giving a large sigh as he heard two heavy sets of footsteps leave the cabin, Xy and James out on a hunt, he slid off the bed, opening the door to get a whiff of Erin, a small smile took form on his lips and he looked over her as he stepped out and headed to the kitchen “I’m starving, what is there?” he asked, trying to act like nothing had happened, like nothing was bothering him, though his side was still sore from a very deep wound that still had a scab and bruising around it. It was the only cut that hadn’t closed up completely yet, and he had to wince as he stretched up to the cupboard to grab a mug and plate.

“Fuck!” he dropped back to his standing position with a sight growl. He hated this, not just the fact he’d been put in his place, but the fact it ached. He was a wolf, he barely ever felt pain anymore, not for this long anyway. His hues slipped to the blonde and he tried to pass it off as some slip of the hand. Malcolm wasn’t one for sympathy.