LOVER, s.stilinski

v. golden bloodshed

"Whoa, slow down there, Miss." Hands placed themselves on the material of her coat, stopping her from investigating much further. Sheriff Stilinski bent down into her line of sight, almost as if he was trying to shield her from the gory showcase of blood and mess behind him. An almost expression of recognition wafted over his creased eyes, and his face dropped with a certain extent of softness. "It's Chrissy, right? Stiles' friend?"

"Yeah, that's me." Though Chrissy couldn't see what was going on, she still pushed in his grip to try and peer over his padded shoulders, hoping to catch a glimpse of a body that wasn't Allison. She didn't spend too much of her time thinking on how Noah Stilinski had even the slightest idea as to who she was, merely brushing back the comment for a later time. "Look, Mr. Sheriff, Sir- I really need to get over there and have a look. Who is it? I kn- There's a bod- Who's body is it? Male? Female?" Chrissy begged, her mind was desperate for the reassurance she so terribly needed. She pursed her lips tightly, controlling her accidental quiver. "Please..."

"Why don't you calm down for me, okay?" Stilinski guided her away, turning her body to face away from the scene of destruction and chaos. "Now, how about you tell me why you so urgently need to be over there?"

"I- No."

Stilinski recoiled, though a tight-lipped smile lifted at the corners of his lips. "Chrissy." His voice was quiet, yet firm all the same, tilting his head to look down at the girl with a raised brow.

"Well, it's just- I can't, no- My frien- Who is it? Please just tell me who it is." She stumbled over her words clumsily, scratching at her now free arms. White lines scraped at her skin, fingernails dragging harshly down the length of her right forearm, carving a trail of scratches.

"You know I can't disclose that information with you, Chrissy, it's private matters." Stilinski soothed, attempting his very best to try and steer the teenager away. "Alright, come on, I'm sure your teachers won't approve of your tardiness. Off to lessons, now."

"But, Sheriff, wait! Please, I have to know!"

"Chrissy, please understand that I can't mention anything to a member of the public, never mind a teenage girl. So, please, just go to lessons and try get through the day. If you so desperately need to speak about it, I suggest my son- there's no doubt he'll be blabbing all of his wild theories to the first person he sees."

He planted her by the back entrances to the school, wishing her off with a kind nod as the radio strapped to his chest spluttered and fizzed, and he glanced back one last time before hurrying his way back over to the monstrosity that was the crime scene.

Just in her static moment of time, Chrissy failed to notice the two boys who had joined either side of her, both Stiles and Scott glancing at her in mild confusion. Each looked their fair bit of disgust and worry at the view in front of them, Scott the most. The palms of his hands were sweating and his lips opened and closed in a haze of shock.

He frantically scanned his eyes over the scene before darting off through the doors and whipping out his phone, leaving Stiles and Chrissy outside.

Stiles looked back at where Scott had previously left, then down to the girl next to him. She looked dazed almost, a faraway expression in her eyes whilst she stared motionless at the buses. The boy took a deep breath, and wrapped his fingers around her elbow to tug her away from the mess.

"Come on, Chrissy. We should leave and let them do their job, we'll just be getting in the way."

Chrissy turned to Stiles in a slow motions, dragging her eyes away the very last second. "But what about Allison? She was on the bus..." Her voice dipped in volume, trailing off with a quiet blubber.