A New Moon - Teen Wolf [ON HOLD]

I think it's called 'lycanthropy'

Glassy eyes stare back at me. Bright ice blue, surrounded by thin red lines, follow me. My shaky breath fogs up the mirror in front of me. My heart thumps against my ribs. My hands shake as I grasp the basin below me.

Breathe. Everything will be fine. I take deep breathes in hope of regulating my breathing and calming my heartbeat.

Every year since fifth grade, this has been my routine. Panic, tears and the inability to sleep. Nights spent, staring into icy blue eyes and willing them to not glass over. Hands switching between gripping a basin so hard I fear it would cave under the pressure and tracing the thin scars down the length of my leg. And finally, restless tossing and turning until eventually I fall asleep, covered in tears.

Although tonight, my thoughts are interrupted when I hear a shout from outside. Oh god. A shout that bears a striking resemblance to the voice of my dear cousin, Scott McCall. Naturally, I grow curious.

I walk to the window and crack it open, just enough for me to peer out without drawing too much attention. When I look down, I see my cousin, Scott, with a baseball bat limp in his hand, talking to somebody on the other side of the balcony fence. By the sound of the voice, I could only assume that it was his best friend, Stiles Stilinski.

I had known Stilinski almost as long as Scott had. Although due to my awkwardness, and inability to make friends, I stuck to the sidelines while their friendship grew into what it was today. I had always admired Stiles. His sarcastic personality, his awkward yet somewhat confident demeanor. His deep, whiskey coloured eyes, that light up when he tells an awful joke. His adorable lopsided grin he does when he says something sarcastic.

Okay. Maybe, I think Stiles is attractive. Irrelevant. Stiles Stilinski is the complete opposite of me, and quite often, a sarcastic jerk.

While Stiles says what is on his mind, I hide in the shadow. Half of the time, I am too scared to even raise my hand in class. I don't make an effort to go out of my way and talk to people. It's not who I am. Stiles also, knows nothing about me, neither of us interested or confident, in my case, enough to talk to the other.

Scott always says that is the reason I have no friends.

I get lost in my thoughts and forget that I was still looking out the window. A benefit? From where I am, I can hear parts of their conversation.

"-Even state police."

"For what?" I can hear the exasperation in Scott's voice. It's the night before our first day back and his best friend is currently hanging, upside down, from the roof of our porch.

"Two joggers found a body in the woods." Followed by a crunch of leaves. Stiles must have gotten off of the roof.

"A dead body?"

"No. A body of water." Stiles comments, sarcasm dripping from his tongue, "Yes, dumb-ass, a dead body."

I stifle a giggle at that, but fail unceremoniously catching their attention, their heads snapping my way. I struggle desperately to close the window, but it gets stuck, unmoving and prolonging my embarrassment.

"Oh, hey Artemis! A fine night this is, huh?" Stiles grins up at me, and I can feel my cheeks heat up. I'm not sure if he is being sarcastic and doesn't want me to answer, or if he is actually being polite.

I squeak out a half-assed response, my voice quiet, "Hi, hi guys. I'm sorry, sorry. Goodnight!" I yell the last part and slam the window shut, sealing me in with my humiliation.

The boys continue talking about the body, although I can no longer make our their words. Soon after, I hear a car start up and I assume they've left to go play detective.