[BOOK 2] "𝙞 '𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝."
As Junior Year begins, lies are unravelled, truths are revealed, and no one ever expects an angel to set the world on fire.
A...
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song of the chapter — love you goodbye by one direction
// Aspen Carter
I'm currently sitting in the corner of the animal clinic, unable to pry my eyes away from the ticking clock on the wall.
It's been sixteen hours.
I have to keep telling myself that everything's fine, that they're not dead and they're coming back—even if they're not coming back to me.
I planned on getting out of here hours ago. I told myself the second I hear that splash—and I know they're okay— I'll be gone.
If I had told any of them what I was planning, they would've stopped me. And I don't want to be stopped.
I want out of this town.
It's caused me nothing but misery for nearly a year now. The one thing that made me want to stay turned into something that makes me want to leave. Stiles.
I love that boy more than I love anything in this world. He grounds me, he makes me feel alive, he's my home.
He always will be my home, but I think right now, home isn't where I should be.
Right now, I'm just waiting for the three splashes to tell me they're back and alive, and can tell Deaton, Lydia and Isaac where the nemeton is so they can go save their parents.
I won't be here for that part, I'll be out the door before they even open their eyes.
Then I hear it— the gasping for air, the gash of water hitting the floor. Now I know they're okay, but I don't even have the chance to let out a sigh of relief before I'm dashing for the door. I make it out, and just as I'm about to get as far away as I can, I'm stopped by a hand on my shoulder.
Please don't be Stiles, please don't be Stiles, please don't be Stiles.
"You're really going without saying goodbye?"
I turn around and I'm filled with minimal relief to see it's not Stiles, but Isaac who's stopped me. He's looking at me like he's disappointed, but not in me.
"Isaac please— I have to go right now." I practically beg, and I can see it in his eyes he's not going to try and force me to stay.
He shakes his head at me before wrapping me in a tight hug, but it doesn't last long because I'm in a hurry and he knows that.
When he let's me go, I spare him one weakened smile before turning around and walking in the other direction. The thing that then stops me is a voice I pick up with my hearing, and a sentence I wish I had gone without having heard.
