red riding hood | void stiles [au]

nine ; present

"The one and only. What do you need?"

"I, uh, need your bathroom. I have a problem...that I certainly didn't expect this early." She answered with a nervous laugh, chewing at her bottom lip for a moment to make her show more believable. "And believe me, I definitely wouldn't be telling you, who I don't know well, something this personal but I didn't just want to go roaming through your house and–."

The impact of the strawberry blonde setting her tray down on the nearest table interrupted Pru's intended rambling. "Oh, don't worry about it. I'll show you where it is. We've all been there."

With that, the two girls headed towards the sliding glass door that made up the back entrance to the house where no one was supposed to be due to the fact it was mostly an outside party, the banshee leading the way. For a second—no, for an instant, a small fragment of time—the girl felt the inevitable twinge of guilt for taking advantage of Lydia's hospitality, but it went away as quickly as it came. She'd been around for a long time, and despite those flickers of pesky compassion that manage to make themselves known from time to time, the blonde knew that it was no use. She'd already done so much bad to even try to do something good.

The interior of the Martin household was clean, homey, and elegant in its own way, which was expected. Prudence only got a glance at the marble countertops and the steel-colored fridge and stove of the kitchen before they were walking up the royal blue carpet-covered stairs, the white walls mostly holding pictures of Lydia and her loving mother. Her hand was gripping onto her purse that matched her dress and that was slung around her body anyway to keep it near, though she was more worried about grasping the useful object inside instead of the fashion accessory itself.

When the banshee turned the handle of the bathroom door, the blonde swore that it had gotten harder to breathe, but it wasn't going to stop her, and before the poor strawberry blonde could turn around to say something else it was too late. Ruthlessly a needle was shoved into Lydia's neck, one of her hands instinctively reaching up to where it had painfully poked through her skin, and she was already having trouble standing up when Pru harshly shoved her into the bathroom. Numbness took over as she locked the door behind them, immediately putting the empty syringe back into her handbag, her phone soon out to text Void that the deed was done.

Her blue eyes tried to not flicker towards the poor teenage girl that had just been betrayed, the tiny whimper that escaped the redhead being the only thing she could get out while she slid to the floor. Because Lydia wanted to scream, scream for help, scream to warn all her friends that there was someone dangerous here, but she couldn't do much of anything except let unconsciousness take over her. Black spots interrupted the banshee's vision until her eyelids had to force themselves shut, her body now limp and her left cheek stained with the stream of where a single tear had fell. It was over finally.

Sucking in a deep breath, the human turned around and began to leave through the window that went out onto the roof, though something stopped her and she stared at the body on the ground. Her chest was lightly rising and falling, indicating that she was alive, but Prudence knew she wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. What she had injected the strawberry blonde with was something normal doctors won't be able to undo and it will take awhile for the McCall pack to find a cure, so until then Lydia Martin would be in a coma; she wouldn't be in the way.

Light wasn't shown in her eyes whatsoever when she stopped getting distracted by what she did and left the scene, the fact that she'd probably have to do worse to fully go through with his revenge plan hitting her, but let's face it, it was him. It was the dark fox that she loved so deeply and so consumingly that she swore that she'd do anything for him, even if that meant continuously forgetting a part of her that aches to be remembered. This was war though, this was not a time to be weak and give in—not if she wanted to leave Beacon Hills alive with him by her side. This was something the blonde thought she had to do.

WHOLEHEARTEDLY, THE girl who used to go by the famously known nickname of Red Riding Hood thought she'd be fast asleep by the time he returned, but then she heard the motel door open, followed by the familiar quiet footsteps that she'd grown accustomed to, and she figured out that wasn't the case. She was curled up in the bed, sheets and a thick, white comforter on top of her, and inexplicably still awake. For some reason, even with being exhausted, she couldn't fall asleep as easily.

After he kicked off his shoes, he slipped underneath the covers as well, not caring if he was still dressed in a pair of maroon pants he found in Stiles' messy closet instead of in something more comfortable. Pru turned around once she felt the mattress dip, instantly finding his face as they laid on their sides, facing each other. They could still see one another clearly in the darkness, every line, curve, and sharp edge of their appearance that made them unholily attracted to each other, her eyes unable to stray too far away from his lips for long.

"Did they find her?"

"Yes, and they are absolutely...devastated. They don't know to help her. Of course, they're intent on finding out." He whispered, his fingers playing with the edge of her baggy T-shirt, tickling the skin of her hip and near the place where her underwear hugged her.

The blonde nodded to indicate she understood the information he told her, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, so she did what she always did when she needed a distraction, she studied the greatest one she'd ever encountered. Messy, dark hair was pushed against his pillow, somehow the perfect amount of untamed, and even now she craved to run her fingers through it.  Then there was the very defined jawline he possessed where the constellation of moles began, and the prominent bridge of his nose that led up to the space between his bushy eyebrows—all of which little details that she soaked in and admired silently. She thought he was a masterpiece.

Abruptly a smirk was plastered on his face, noticing how much she wasn't really paying attention no more and how the only movement was her eyes running along him, which encouraged him to do same to her. Adoring the girl next him seemed to be one of the easiest things to him, never missing how gracefully pink her lips were and how wide and doe-like her deep blue eyes were, and he was hit with it again. That rush, that need, to be close to her again, to please her, and to watch her struggle to form coherent words while he did everything he could to make her feel good seemed to always be on his mind now, especially since he's been deprived from her touch for so long. He would never get enough of her.

It was the unexpected movement of him shuffling around under the covers until he was on top of her that broke Prudence out of her thoughtful trance, one of his hands placing itself on her thigh while the other one helped him from not putting his whole weight on her. Void slotted himself in between her legs without difficulty, the warmth radiating off of the magically-affected human's body only provoking him to eliminate their proximity further, her arms coming up to instinctively snake around him. Desire once again clouded their minds, limiting their thoughts to strictly the two of them and all the things they wished to do to one another.

All of it seemed to be triggered by this invisible switch which allowed them to let go of everything to focus solely on one another, because not even a minute later they were all over each other, desperation behind every kiss, grasp, and noise of appreciation. Their hips even began to rock simultaneously, loving the friction they got from the few layers that separated them from full on touching, heavy breaths exiting both of them as they clawed at one another. Declaring their attraction towards the other was plainly something they could never get tired of doing, this physical commerce certainly not being the pair's last, and they would bask in it—in everything.

This included the breathy moans he would release that made her cling onto him tighter and the way she would absentmindedly murmur his name like a prayer that made him want her even more. They were lost, in each other, in the vast and alluring sensations, and in everything that made them utterly memorized by each other. This was everything they wanted, craved, and wished for relentlessly, because both of them refused to fight it this time, knowing that it was so much better to let the other in. Though the couple's decision of togetherness wouldn't be as easy as they thought. After all, we're dealing with an untrustworthy, possessive fox and a girl that thinks an immense amount of emotion won't do anyone any good, so it would be only a matter of time before something causes some personal conflict. Coincidently, the McCall pack would have involvement in that.