"he found a strange comfort in seeing nothing in her charming gaze. An ominous sense she was either his worst nightmare or an anomaly."
[au stiles stilinski x fem oc]
(extended...ish summary inside)
✢ mourning moon or alternatively, "unwilling accomplice"
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¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
𝗦 𝗧 𝗜 𝗟 𝗘 𝗦
"believe nothing you hear and only half of what you see." EDGAR ALLAN POE
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𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙐𝙉𝙈𝙊𝙊𝙍𝙀𝘿𝙁𝙀𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙊𝙁𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙎' 𝘿𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙈𝙎𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙑𝘼𝘿𝙀𝘿𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙊𝙐𝙂𝙃𝙏𝙃𝙀𝘿𝘼𝙔, until he was finally alone. As alone as he was going to get, as he was allowed to be. He shut the bathroom door on the monotony of his day. The endless driving down California roads, his silent dwelling while Derek Hale barked orders at him and Scott.
Stiles quietly undressed from his sweaty clothes and stepped into the shower, bracing himself for the cold awaiting him. His hand twisted the faucet to the coolest setting, a surge of frozen water meeting his hollow body, bearing life to him.
For a moment, the water wiped his mind clean of the Hale, who hovered beyond the bathroom door, of tryouts, which he had just come back from, and of Iris, whom he hadn't seen yet thought about all day. Who completely shook his reason, making him want to bash his head in, as the shadowy figure did in his "dream."
Stiles took in the stillness before realizing that not thinking about them was just inadvertently thinking about them. In addition, Scott and Derek's startled voices cut through the quiet, a pang of dread hitting him and the refreshing chill turning to pellets of ice stabbing at his bare skin, pushing his problems back into focus.
Stiles hadn't told anyone about it. Not even Scott or his father, and definitely not Derek Hale, almost as if saying it would make it true — which it wasn't, he affirmed to himself. Just one bad, surrealist nightmare among the litany, and not a vision, thought it looked like one. He had never gotten a vision from his dreams before. The idea was totally preposterous.
