Through The Dark [Stiles Stilinski]

6. Under Streetlights

SELENA POV

When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t expecting to hate today. After last night, I honestly thought that everything could only go up from there. Unfortunately for me, school was required by law. Stupid government… Every time I turned a corner, more voices echoed in the hallways; girls turned to stare at me as if I was carrying the plague. Their faces, each pulled into a sneer, only reminded me of the two large gashes on the side of my face. All of the whispers made me feel like I was about two inches tall.

Taking a turn into the girl’s bathroom, I stand in front of the white sink, my two hands gripping the sides, practically holding them as a lifeline. Looking into the mirror, all I could see was the reminder of what had happened last night. The gashes on my face still were a bright red; practically a radar on my face, labeling me as imperfect.

Turning on the cold water, I splash some in my face, trying to calm myself as well as try to lessen the redness. It was basically taking all the effort I had not to just walk out of the bathroom and then straight out the front doors of the school.

After a few minutes of trying to relax my breathing, I once again head out into the maze of hallways. Instead of being greeted by the annoyingly high-pitched voices of the petty girls in the hallway, I’m met with the sight of a tall, raven-haired man.

Standing by the door to one of the English classrooms, he eyes the hallway as if waiting for someone. I had never seen him before, but it was undeniable just how attractive he was. His chiseled and unshaven jaw, his piercing brown eyes—all of him seemed to be a warning sign of future heartbreak.

The man soon nods his head down the hallway, where I see Stiles, Allison, Scott, and Lydia making their way towards him. They all go inside the classroom, shutting the door swiftly behind them—almost like they are hiding something. Letting my curiosity get the best of me, I go stand next to the door, hoping to overhear part of their conversation. Unfortunately, I could only make out a few things: something to do with symbols, Derek not trusting Allison, and then finally my name.

Hearing the group making their way back towards the door, I swiftly turn to the drinking fountain on my right, trying to make it seem like I wasn’t just listening in on their conversation. Sipping the water slowly, I hear the click of heels as Allison and Lydia walk towards their lockers. Stepping back from the fountain, my eyes meet with Stiles’, whose brown ones were focused intently on my chest.

“Not that your staring at my breasts isn’t flattering,” I begin, seeing Stiles quickly look away from my chest in embarrassment.

“Oh-shit-I mean, uh,” he stutters, clearly flustered with being caught.

“It’s okay Stiles, it’s nice to know I still am sort of attractive,” I laugh, even though it still pains me to think of how my face looks.

“What-you, uh, you are totally attractive, like—all your parts,” he says, eyes soon growing wide with what had left his mouth. “I—I mean, you are—everything about you is attractive.”

Smiling slightly at how uncomfortable Stiles’ was quickly becoming, I place my hand on his shoulder, hoping to calm him. Instead, however, all I feel is a jolt pass through my entire arm. It almost felt like someone had shot volts of electricity through my veins. Retracting my hand from him, I quickly begin to walk away, hopefully with enough time left to save myself from more embarrassment.

“Wait!” he calls out, running in front of me. “Are you alright? I didn’t get to see you this morning and wanted to see if you were feeling okay? I know last night must have real done a number on you, and especially with how tired you must look, you must not be feeling well. Oh god, of course you aren’t feeling okay, you practically were murdered in the back of your building. Okay, I think I should stop talking. Are--are you okay, though?”