☾

"Obviously Edward and Bella are soulmates, no doubt about that," I tell Nessa, pointing at her with my spoon before scooping up a chunk of chocolate ice cream and eating it. I'm on an ice cream binge tonight, so I'm almost done with the carton which would be embarrassing if I wasn't around my sister.

We're having a movie night since I can't go out. Ever since she picked me up from the school, she's basically forbidden me from leaving the house until school is open or until Derek Hale is 'apprehended.' Stiles had called me to ask if I wanted to come with him and Scott earlier but I sadly can't. But hey, watching Twilight with my sister is a second best.

But ever since that night, whenever I sleep I have nightmares about the Alpha, Derek dying, or my friends dying. What really got me was the one with Stiles, but because I don't want to cry, I'm not going to describe it with any other word other than 'heart-crushing.'

"Why?" Nessa asks, confused.

"Okay, immediate connection, undeniable attraction and intense affection for each other," I explain. "And while I don't entirely agree with his method of protecting her by leaving, he had good intentions."

"When did you get all romantic?" She teases, poking me with her toe.

I shrug, putting the tub of ice cream on the coffee table. "When I met Stiles," I admit, unashamed.

She gasps dramatically, grinning. "Aren't you two dating now?" She teases.

"Ever since the day after the video accident," I answer easily.

She opens her mouth to say something but is cut off by my ringtone, which I scramble up to answer.

Batman.

I grin and accept the call, quickly moving out into the hallway and out of earshot from Nessa. "Hey," I greet with a grin.

"Heeeyyy, babe," Stiles slurs, surprising me. He sounds drunk, right off the bat. No questions asked.

So this is his idea for helping Scott get over the break he's on with Allison? Dumb idea, to be honest. Alcohol isn't the answer, I should know; after drinking half a bottle of rum when trying to forget my first and last break up, it ended with me hugging a toilet and one wicked hangover.

"Are you drunk?" I ask quietly.

"Nooo," he denies. "Why aren't you here?"

"Nessa has me in house arrest until school starts again," I answer, finding his drunk voice adorable. "You know that."

"Dude," Stiles says, and I know it's directed toward Scott. "You know, she's just one... One girl. You know, there are so many... There's so many other girls in the sea."

"Fish in the sea," I correct at the same time Scott does.

"Fish?" Stiles asks, confused. "Why you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. I love girls. I love them." So do I, Stiles, as well as boys. "I love... Especially ones with blonde hair, icy blue eyes, five foot..."

Wait, what? Love? He... Loves me? We just started dating! But then again, he told me he's had a crush on me since third grade. And whatever I'm feeling for him, it's intense and quickly developing, so in the future, I may love Stiles. But right now, I'm focused on my boyfriend being drunk. That is something for later.

"Like Mary Anne?" I hear Scott ask.

"Yeah, exactly. Hey, how did you know I was talking about... About... What was I talking about?" I can practically hear the grin in his voice.

I can't help but giggle; I see Stiles is silly when he's drunk. I find silly drunks to absolutely funny. When I'm drunk, I get silly and flirty. Not a good combination with intoxication and heels.

"Hey, you're not happy. Take a drink," Stiles continues to slur his words.

"I don't want any more," Scott replies sullenly.

"You're not drunk?" Stiles asks. I don't think werewolves can get drunk, with the healing and heightened metabolism.

"I'm not anything," he says unemotionally.

"Hey, maybe it's like... Maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know. Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf. Am I drunk?" Stiles queries.

"You're wasted," Scott answers.

"Completely smashed," I say, using my father's old English slang.

"Yeah!" Stiles cheers. "Oh, come on, dude, I know it feels bad. I know it hurts. I know. Well, I don't know. But I know this. I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse. That didn't make any sense."

Actually, it depends on the severity of the break-up. Sometimes the pain can be equal. When my ex-girlfriend broke up with me after I found out I was a bet and found her in bed with someone else, it was pretty painful. But I'm over it, and a lot of it is because of Stiles.

"I need a drink," Stiles laughs.

"Well, look at the two little bitches getting their drink on," an unfamiliar voice says.

I furrow my brow in worry. "Stiles? Stiles, what's happening?" However, he hangs up on me, probably not wanting me to hear the rest of the situation.

Okay then...

☾

School is reopening today, and much to my dismay, we start it off with a huge test that Mr. Harris is looking over. I had to deal with an Alpha and now with Satan, great. I'd rather deal with the Alpha right now.

"It's just weird. Everybody's talking about what happened the other night and nobody knows it was us," Allison says as we walk down the hallways with Lydia, with me on the other side of the taller girl.

"Thank you for the protection of minors," Lydia sings.

"Lydia, Mary Anne, do you think I made the wrong decision?" Allison asks, a pensive look on her face.

"About that jacket with that dress? Absolutely," the strawberry-blonde answers flippantly.

"You know what I mean," Allison glares.

"Hello?" She says in a sing-song voice. "Scott locked us in that classroom and left is for dead. He's lucky we're not pressing charges or making him pay for our therapy bills."

"But," I cut in. "He did leave in the first place to protect us." I shift my eyes to the tall brunette. "What I'm trying to say is, no, you didn't make a mistake. You let your mind rule over your heart and in a lot of cases, that's a good thing. And sometimes, a break can make you rethink what you feel and your priorities, and make you realize that in the end, it was worth it, that it helped and you can work out the problems."

"Really?" She asks quietly.

I nod and give her a smile. "Yeah."

"Enough about my love life, what about yours?" She asks, smiling and it doesn't reach her eyes. She's obviously putting up a front for everyone, something I've done before. Knowing how I felt when people pointed it out, I decide not to call her out.

A shy grin makes its way to my lips and I chuckle, "Uh, we're doing fine. We're just going slow for a while."

"Aww, that is adorable. You two make a good couple," she gushes, obviously happy to get her mind off of her own relationship problems by making me talk about my new one.

I blush and nudge her hip with mine, my heart fluttering at the reminder of what Stiles said last night.

☾

I walk into the class we're having the test in with slumped shoulders. I genuinely care for Allison and I hate seeing my friends in emotional pain, and from Scott's tone last night, he's in pain, too. He apparently was my friend back when we were little so I'm trying to be more friendly with him, especially because I'm dating his best friend.

I know that Scott is behind me, but to avoid any awkward tension, I speed walk up the aisle after receiving a booklet from Harris and plop down next to Stiles who smiles at me.

"Hey," he says quietly.

"Hi," I whisper. "How's the hangover?"

He pretends to groan in pain, holding his forehead and bending over the desk. I can't help but giggle quietly at his theatrics, and when he hears it, he turns his head to me with a goofy grin. His eyes give my body a once over before sitting straight. "You look cute, like always," he compliments.

My cheeks go warm with a blush; he's been taking advantage of the fact that I blush easily when complimented. Looking down, I inspect my outfit; a long-sleeved with blue and white floral designs, light wash jeans, and converses.

"Thanks," I whisper back, looking up at him.

Scott comes into my line of view as he sits down in front of Stiles, his despair and anguish very prominent in his scent; lately I've been able to smell chemosignals, something I know canines can do. But some smell incredibly horrid, and I can't even tell which emotion smells like what yet.

"You have forty-five minutes to complete the test," Mr. Harris announces, making me sit up straight, pencil in hand. When it comes to tests, I get ready and I always finish early. They're easy and this'll be no different. "Twenty-five percent of your grade can be earned right now simply by writing your name on the cover of the blue book." I roll my eyes, knowing he's gonna say something condescending after that, but I write my name on the front. "However, as happens every year, one of you will inexplicably fail to put your name on the cover, and I'll be left yet again questioning my decision to ever become a teacher. So let's get the disappointment over with. Begin."

I knew it. Fucking prick.

I flip open the book and look over the first question, quickly answering, flying through the first page and onto the second. But then, my head snaps up the sound of a racing heartbeat. Scott stands from his desk, leaving the classroom in a hurry. What the hell?

"Mr. McCall?" Harris calls after him. I share a look with Stiles before he gets up and chases after his best friend. Harris calls out, "Mr. Stilinski!" I drop my pencil and start to stand, intending on following them when an annoying voice stops me. "You get up Ms. Archer and you'll have detention until the end of the year."

I grit my teeth and glare at him, sinking back into my seat.

I repeat, fucking prick.

☾

After the exam, I went to lunch, but I haven't seen Stiles or Scott since, making me worry. What if Scott wolfed out and ate Stiles? Or something worse?

Ignoring the salad I brought for lunch that's in my bag, I continue to read the book I brought with me, Beautiful Darkness, for like the fifth time. Then my vision goes dark, someone putting their hands over my eyes to hinder my eyesight. "Guess who?" Someone whispers in my ear playfully.

I already know it's Stiles; the fingers are long and slender, something that makes Stiles unique, and even though he used a different voice, his scent is the same. But I'll mess with him a bit. "Hmm, Danny?" I quip.

The hands leave my eyes and I turn my head to see Stiles moving to sit next to me, one hand on the back my chair and the other on the table. "Really, Danny?" He asks, eyes narrowed.

I giggle and shrug, leaning in to peck him on the lips. "C'mon, you know I know it was you. Your scent is familiar," I say simply.

"My scent?" He asks, perplexed. He moves closer to me, most likely trying to keep the conversation private and so that no one overhears and think we're insane.

"Yeah, mint and something woodsy," I explain. "Everyone has a distinct scent and since I'm around you a lot, yours is familiar."

He arches an eyebrow, the gears in his head obviously shifting. "You smell like flowers and vanilla," he blurts out.

I poke my tongue out my cheek, grinning mischievously. "Huh," I say, tilting my head to the side but I remember I have to tell him something. "Oh, yeah, I have something else as a clue to figure out what I am." His eyes widen, scooting closer to me, if that's possible. "When I woke up this morning I felt... Different. Like my senses are usually cranked up but today they're knocked up to twenty."

"Well, it's the full moon tonight, maybe whatever you are gets power from it," he suggests. "You have one gold eye, one green. Maybe you're a hybrid. Like, half-werewolf and half-something else. It explains the heightened senses and your reaction to the Alpha howling."

I furrow my brow, considering it. "But then I'd have to be born like that. I was only scratched and my parents were human," I point out.

He sighs and bites his lip, a contemplative look on his face. It's silence between us for a solid minute, realization washing over his face. "Wait, you said you had fuzzy memories from before you were seven, right? Maybe it was intentional? Like, to make you forget anything supernatural you could have known about your parents if they weren't human. To protect you from it."

"But no one could do that, not my parents because it was after they died," I deny. "Other than Nessa...." I trail off, considering it. If Nessa did do it to me then maybe she's apart of the supernatural and doesn't know that I'm aware of it. "What if Nessa did it? I mean, she's been acting weird lately and it could be because she's a supernatural creature, and she's knows what's been happening."

He nods, biting his thumbnail. "Maybe. But why now? Why are they showing up now?" He asks. "Is there any special event coming up that could be significant?"

"I'm turning sixteen in March," I answer.

"Then maybe whatever you are gets their powers at a certain age, like sixteen? And if you're half-werewolf, it's making it speed up."

I nod and give him a small smile.

We're getting closer to figuring out what I am, finally.

"Thank you," I whisper, leaning my head closer to him. "For helping me, I mean. And just so you know, you really don't have to."

He shakes his head. "I want to. I want to help. Especially now that we're one step closer to it."

He's right. We're one step closer.

☾

This is shorter than what I usually write because when I originally wrote it, it was over 4,000 words so I split it in half.

Void_Stiles_is_Life xx