𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ── 𝘚.𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘚𝘒𝘐

♡ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬-𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘 ♡

Dallas stuttered over her sentences rather confusedly before nodding. "Yeah, of course." She stood aside. Lydia slipped the jacket over her shoulders and hung it on the coathanger before glancing up at her best friend. Despite their rocky relationship, Lydia felt as if she was the only person she could truly rely on. 

"Is your dad here?" 

Dallas shook her head, still rather confused. "No, why?" she crossed her arms and took a step towards her. "What's wrong?"

Lydia gave her a defeated chuckle before heading to the kitchen, the Latina in pursuit, and slipping James Garcia's whiskey from the cabinet and flicking the cap off. "I found a dead body."

The youngest Garcia remained silent for a few moments. "You what?"

"I found a dead body," she repeated, gulping down the alcohol and scrunching up her face at the bitter taste. "But that's not the worst part." 

"It gets worse?" she sat beside Lydia and ran comforting circles on her back. The girl offered her a box of tissues, which seemed like a more stable consoler than the alcohol she was sipping. 

Pushing the red hair behind her ear and placing the bottle down on the marble counter, the redhead glanced at the brunette. "Because... It was like - like I knew it was there." she cut herself off, noticing the pretty dress and careful makeup Dallas wore. "Are you going somewhere?" 

Dallas inhaled sharply and fixed her posture. "Well, I, uh, had a date with Louis." she watched as Lydia's eyes widened before wiping them and standing up.

"I didn't know, I'm sorry," she muttered out, almost too fast to decipher. "I'll go."

Abruptly, her arm was gently pulled back by the Latina's hand. "Hey, wait," she spoke with comfort and sympathy. "Why don't you stay over? You can tell me everything. I'm not just gonna leave you, Lyds."

Lydia felt guilt strike her in the gut. In many ways, she felt as if she didn't deserve Dallas. Sometimes she wouldn't be the greatest of friends but she was trying to be better - trying to be the person the girl knew she was. 

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Stiles Stilinski stood before Cora Hale, pouring out complaints to her one after another. "Where's Derek?"

Cora turned her back from the symbol that was plastered across the windows in tape and met his eyes. "Away."

The Stilinski ran a hand through his hair and gave her a baffled look. "Okay, so is two days standard then?"  he spoke with a sarcastic tone, pacing around the loft. "Or are we thinking Derek's on, like, some extended getaway?"

She turned to him, hands shoved in pockets and face sour. "Why do you care?"

The boy let out an overdramatic scoff. "Why do I care? Let's see, because over the last few weeks, my best friend's has almost died, his boss is missing, a girl that I've known since I was three was ritually sacrificed, Boyd was killed by a bunch of Alpha's.." he trailed off. "Do you want me to keep going? Cause I can - for like, an hour."

"You think Derek can do anything about that?" Cora responded patronisingly, taking a few steps towards the erratic teenager.

"Well, since he's the one everyone seems to be after, it's more like he should do something about it. Yeah." 

Cora leant against the metallic table that stood in the centre of the room and left out a hefty sigh. "I don't know, there's something different about him now." she let her eyes fall to the floor. "He wasn't like this when I knew him."