𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐚 ▷ 𝐬. 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢

𝟏. 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨

CHAPTER ONE
tattoo

YASMINE MCCALL

I sat in the chair twirling around, bored out of my mind. "Scott, can you just finish your sketch already?" I muttered and shot a glance at my brother, who was staring down at the paper with a pen in his hand, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he concentrated entirely on the sketch. "I'm sure he doesn't need a fucking Picasso-level picture."

Seconds passed before Scott dropped the pen, a goofy smile on his face as he handed the paper to the tatted tattoo artist, who had been waiting for Scott to finish for a while now. "Hush, Yasmine," he childishly shot at me.

The tattoo took a peek at the paper, adjusting his narrow glasses. "Boy, it's a good thing you drew me a picture," he sarcastically remarked, Scott beaming happily as I jumped off the chair and let Scott sit down instead.

"Hey, Scott," Stiles called out, ultimately turning to face us as he held up a tattoo book, the sketch being of a creature that looked eerily similar to a Kanima. "Sure you don't want something like this?" Scott let out a deep exhale, shooting Stiles a glare, while I rolled my eyes and rubbed my temple. "Too soon? Yeah."

"Why did I even agree to this?" I whined and took a seat on the small couch located in the corner, crossing my legs. "I should've stayed home."

Stiles shook his head. "You always have to be here, Yasmine. Who else will question all of Scott's stupid decisions with me if not you?"

I let out a snort while Scott rolled his eyes, nothing able to remove the beam off his face. "Okay, true."

Stiles smirked at me, then looked over at Scott. "I don't know, man. Are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?"

"I'm not changing my mind," Scott had rolled up his sleeve and was resting his arm on the arm of the side, the tattoo artist prepping my brother's arm and also his own tools.

I clicked my tongue, arching an eyebrow. "Okay, but why two bands? Why not my name?" I joked, winking playfully at him.

Scott shrugged. "I just like it."

"But don't you think your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning, you know, or something?" The pale boy questioned, my eyes following him as I tried to not make it obvious that I was staring.

Over the past few months, we had all changed and for the better, I would argue. Scott had finally gotten a haircut and looked so much more mature, also having spent all summer working out and gaining some serious muscles. To everyone's surprise, Stiles let his hair grow out, and now had the most luscious brown hair, which was also styled so messily that it looked great.

Personally, I had spent this entire summer vacation reflecting and doing my fair share of self-love and self-care. After everything with the Kanima and Peter, I decided that I needed to get back to taking care of myself but also holding no grudges.

That is why Lydia and I decided to spend a few weeks down in Los Angeles all on our own. Things between us had always been intense ever since she and Jackson became a couple, but that night had altered both of our opinions and that is why I was stunned when Lydia came knocking on my door asking if we could finally sit down and just talk. It took some time, but we came to the conclusion that the only way we would ever be able to truly reconnect was by getting away from here and spending some time on our own.

We were in no way diehard best friends again, which was understandable on both sides. But we had managed to start rebuilding our friendship and letting our differences fade away, especially since Jackson was shipped off to England by his parents. Lydia and I saw the foolishness in letting a boy ruin our friendship and both made a promise to never let that happen again, deciding that we need to be there for each other and not work against each other.