duodécima luna. [a stiles fanfic]

veintiuno.

Violeta Rodriguez was wearing heels.

Why was Violeta Rodriguez wearing heels? That is a good question. To understand that one must go back a few hours where the girl had found herself walking up the steps to Beacon Hills High, hood up and a clear fuck off aura radiating off her once again.

She walked, not expecting to see many people since it was the last day and school finished early. Certainly none of the crew was here. The only reason she had come was because Allison Argent's mother was dying.

"Violeta!"

The girl didn't stop walking as she continued her search of the hunter. Scott McCall jumped over the railing and dash to meet up with her. "Where were you last night? We needed you." He asked, putting a hand on her shoulder as he tried to get her to slow down.

Grabbing his hand, she spun it around until she heard the effective pop and pushed him down on the ground. "Do not mess with me today, McCall. I'm not in the mood."

"Woah!" Scott said, nursing his hand. "I only wanted to check up on you."

"Why the fuck are you checking up on me?" She seethed. "We're not friends."

"I thought..." Scott frowned. "... Is this about Stiles?" He asked as he stood up.

Violeta punched him in the face.

Even through her punch sent him to the ground, broke his nose and made blood spill from it, he still smiled. Granted, he was grabbing his broken nose with a healing dislocated arm he had just popped back but he was overjoyed.

"It is!" Scott said, trying to stand up again... and maintain a safe distance. "Allison told me you ran off after finding out he gave the ticket to Lydia." Violeta stared at him. She huffed and stalked forward. Scott took a hesitant step back but she only outstretched her hand to his face. Thinking she would heal his nose or something, he let her hand touch him.

Then he buckled to his knees and grabbed his chest. He felt his defences shoot up, his eyes flash gold and teeth bare as it pulsated at his chest. It was as if someone had ripped open his chest, grabbed his heart and dug their claws into it. Squeezed it.

God, he would've rather they tore it out of his chest.

"Don't pretend that you know anything when you don't." Violeta said.

"What are you talking about? What was that?" He asked, panting. He had never ever felt pain like that. What's more, he wasn't defensive. For some reason, his werewolf instincts refused to kick in. No, one cannot oppose this creature. It was a fact that ran through him despite the sheer agony he felt. And he wasn't sure why she had made him feel that.

Suddenly, Scott thought back to sitting in Stiles' bedroom as his best friend said, "They - she, they have this empathetic ability to make you feel what they feel. Like a voodoo doll of sorts."

Oh.

Oh no.

Stiles.

Standing up, Scott regarded Violeta with new eyes. How had he not seen it beforehand? Violeta was... Stiles was her... They were...

"Now, have you seen Allison?"

"No-I no." He stuttered, his head, heart and body still reeling from what had just transpired and the revelation that came with. "She- um, er." Violeta stared at him impatient. "A-Allison didn't come because Lydia wanted to go... shopping." He finally got out. "It's her birthday today and she's having a party to celebrate."