Take on the World ⟷ Stiles Stilinski [1]

Sensory Overload

I don't normally write stuff before the chapter but this is important. In this Story, Riley and Maya met at the beginning of 'Middle School' NOT when they were toddlers. in my mind, Maya made a lot, A LOT, of mistakes when she was younger. I relate with Maya's character in the show, my parents split when I was younger and by the time I was 11 I was really angry and it didn't really calm down until I met my high school friends, bare in mind that I'm British but even then I didn't meet my friends until I was 14. Okay enough about me, on with the story.

Trigger warning: Underage drinking? I guess. Sensory overload a bit.

Maya stayed at the party for another twenty minutes trying to figure out what just happened, and how she was gonna kill Scott for worrying her and Allison.

She stumbled through the crowded area, her head pounding and feeling slightly nauseous. The loud music was messing with her. She tripped over an uneven slab in Lydia's back garden, falling straight into another body.

"Whoa, Maya?" Hands grabbed at her arms to steady her. Maya looked up and straight into the whiskey eyes of Stiles Stilinski. Her vision blurred around the edges, she swayed on the spot before leaning heavily on her friend.

"Stiles?" She questioned, holding onto the last 's' for longer than necessary. Stiles' eyes widened and his brain froze for two reasons.

Number one, Maya looked amazing in red, and the outfit she chose in general.

And two? His new blonde friend was acting like she'd been drugged, or was drunk. Both were equally concerning.

"Hey, hey, how much have you had to drink?" Maya squinted at Stiles in confusion, then shook her head.

The blonde tucked her head into the crook of his neck, trying in vain to block out some of the noise. Maya had been drunk before, this wasn't alcohol, the only thing she'd had to drink at the party was a bottle of water that she had brought with her.

Maya closed her eyes as pain ran through her skull again, the music resonating in her head, "Away." She mumbled.

Stiles blinked down at her, Away? What did she mean away?. He studied her for a minute, taking notice of how she flinched every time a particularly 'basey' note blasted through the speakers that were set up around the garden.

"Okay, away it is." He tried to lead her away from the stereo system Lydia had hooked up to play around the garden and house, but Maya's legs gave out.

Stiles let out a strangled sound as his friends fell, "You really like making things difficult, don't you?"

He hooked his left arm under her knees as his right supported her back, he looked down just as Maya pushed her head into his neck again. Her breath sending shivers down Stiles' spin, "Next time I'm carrying you, you better be conscious."

"Th'ks, St'les."

--

Maya Hunter loved a lot of things.

She loved her bed. She loved Riley and sunset in New York and drawing on the first page of a sketchbook.

But she also hated a lot of things too.

She hated waking up. And school and Mondays. She hated it when Lucas called her a 'short stack of pancakes' (although admittedly, she hated it less than she used too, she'd never tell him that though.)

But, more than anything, she hated being confused. She'd spent enough time when she was younger being confused, and it was usually the follow up from being angry or stupid. Going out at stupid o'clock at night to take her anger out on things or to just wander around New York until she was numb and cold enough to go home.

Well, not home, but her house.

She didn't find her home, home until Riley Matthews skipped her way into Maya's life, glitter and all, at age twelve.

Maya stirred slightly, loud voices interrupting her sleep, did she mention how much she loved sleep?

"Stiles, why is there a blonde girl asleep in your bed?" Maya's eyes fluttered at the unknown voice.

"Dad, dad. It's Maya, okay it's Maya!" That was Stiles.

What were Stiles and the now known, unknown person of Sheriff Stilinski doing in her house?

"And who is Maya?" 

And since when did she have blue blankets on her bed?

Her head was still fuzzy when Stiles started to explain what he thought had happened, "-I was at the party with Scott, and then Scott went off with Allison and I was on my own and- and then, she was, like stumbling?" Stiles explained rapidly, "And was confused. She was holding her head and, like, wincing? So I got worried and asked her if she was okay, but she just kept saying 'away'-"

Maya's head cleared enough for her to open her eyes again, squinting she looked to her left to see the blurred outline of Stiles and an older, slightly taller man who looked strikingly like Maya's friend.

"So you bought a drunk girl you barely know, home with you?"

"She's my friend."

"And I'm not drunk," Both men in the room jumped, Stiles letting out a strangled scream. While the Sheriff's hand went to hover over his holster, even though there was no gun sitting there, "Just slightly confused."

____

This chapter is sooooooo crap.

I'm so sorry, I'm not happy with it, at all. and im also sorry that I haven't updated since May? I wasn't feeling great and ended up in the hospital after being diagnosed with Cronic Pain and Fatigue. Not that thats an excuse...

I'm planning on updating more regularly, like maaaybe once a month?