I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters. I only own Celeste. If I did Stiles would smile a lot more.

Song - Tennis Court // Lorde (Flume remix)

Celeste's POV

"It's not going in!"

"Just push a little harder!"

"It's completely stuck."

"Game face, this is totally normal. Everyone does it."

"Getting shoes a size down is not natural Lydia."

The strawberry blonde huffed and plopped down with exaggerated annoyance on the carpeted floor of the the shoe department in Macy's.

She gripped onto the heel of the metallic bronze boot that she had chosen for Celeste on their trip to the mall.

"Okay, you push into the shoe while I push up onto your foot. On three. One, two, thr-"

Lydia's countdown was interrupted by very intense whale noises that she didn't think could come from the tiny girl above her.

As soon as Lydia dropped the unnecessarily strap-covered boot, Celeste wiggled her entire body until the medieval torture device was flung from her suffering foot.

That caused a lot of dirty looks from the surrounding suburban mothers.

"Celeste!" Lydia cried in an exasperated tone, to which she replied with a sheepish grin.

"Sorry Lyds, that thing feels like a gremlin trying to eat my toes."

"What feels like a gremlin?" Allison interjected, popping her head out of a nearby dressing room.

Celeste and Lydia simultaneously pointed to the offending boot, which was now residing in the middle of a colorful display of flats.

The taller girl giggled, her luxurious curls cascading along the right side of her prominent jawline.

Celeste wished she had those curls, instead of her wavy, hard to manage ink colored locks.

She self-consciously smoothed down the top of her hair as Allison stepped out of the dressing room in a strapless ivory-with-sky-blue-accents casual dress that filled out beneath the bodice and ended just above the modelesque girl's knees.

She did a graceful twirl in the mirror, debating the number hand-picked for her by one Lydia Martin.

The aforementioned female let out a gasp of delight, clapping her hands together and rocking slightly on her heels.

"J'adore, Argent. You simply must get it."

Allison cocked her head to the side, examining every inch of her reflection.

Celeste could understand her nerves. Apparently, after their first day at Beacon Hills High, Allison had hit a dog on the road.

While this was horrific and regret-inducing, the situation had a silver lining, seeing as the veterinary clinic she had frantically brought the poor canine to was inhabited by a very sweet puppy named Scott McCall.

This happy coincidence ended in Allison revoking her family night excuse, seeing as Scott had asked her to Lydia's party.

"Celeste? What do you think?" Allison asked, her doe eyes attentive as she waited for her answer.

Celeste hesitated, considering the garment.

"It's gorgeous, but it doesn't really seem like your style."

Allison thought for a few moments, then nodded in agreement.

"You're right. I'm probably better off just wearing something I already own."

"Besides, he'd be stupid not to like you even if you were wearing a morph suit or something," Celeste assured.

Allison smiled gratefully, but Lydia rolled her eyes.

"You guys are no fun at all," she complained lightheartedly, "anyways, we might as well get some good out of this trip. Shoe shopping anyone?"

Celeste blanched, and then laughed nervously. She personally found shoe shopping equivalent to having teeth pulled.

"Actually, I think my mom will need me home soon, sorry. But yep, yes I must be going," she stammered out her excuse, but her obvious lie fell blind to Lydia as she was distracted by a pair of dangerous looking heels.

"Okay, whatever. Bye bitch, see you tomorrow," Lydia replied distantly before scurrying away.

Allison and Celeste exchanged amused looks, then waved goodbye as Celeste began to make her way out of the department store.

Naturally, she tripped on the escalator, but she shook it off and continued on her journey outward. However, she was soon stopped by the familiar sound of her stomach growling out for food.

She sighed, spinning on her heel and instead walked inwards to the regular mall.

☾ ☽

After getting lost multiple times and knocking into various people, Celeste successfully found the food court. She surveyed the selection of vendors with hungry eyes.

Her mind registered a homely stall decorated with red and white kitchen tiles that called itself "Sue's Salads", a hipster looking place serving kale and wheat grass shots named "Hëalth", and a "Five Guys."

Salad or burger?

Celeste mentally snickered at the delusional dilemma she was in, before swiftly making her way to the Five Guy's line.

As she approached the sizable line, the presence of a familiar shaved head made her heart skip a bit.

She quietly slipped into line, but she failed to escape the impatient, wandering eyes of her beach boy.

His eyes widened as he saw her, and he did an odd jumping thing as he sidestepped out of the line to reach around and solidify whether it was really Celeste.

Celeste giggled as he was momentarily distracted by the realization that he had given up his place.

He attempted to push back in, but large man in tank quite literally growled at him, causing the smaller male to make an instinctual double chin face and bulge out his eyeballs as he backwards-jogged to the end of the line, muttering about fascism.

He turned around and apparently remembered that a now very amused Celeste was there, and he smiled sheepishly at her while roughly shoving his hands in his pockets.

"You okay there?" Celeste asked jokingly, her voice thick with laughter.

"Wh- yeah, yes. Totally," Stiles sputtered out, intentionally trying to make his voice deeper, "I could've taken that guy, but you know. Didn't want to create a scene."

She only snorted in response, but held her hand out for the spastic boy.

"I'm Celeste, by the way," she offered in a faux-casual tone, hoping to finally learn his name.

"You're what? Oh. Oh! Your name is Celeste," he replied, but he seemed to be talking more to himself, "Celeste, huh. What a lovely name."

He blinked, looking at her expectant eyes before realizing his impoliteness.

"Oh, yeah I'm Stilinski. Stiles I mean- yes I am Stiles," he answered her silent question, pulling one hand from his pockets and grabbing onto Celeste's wavering hand with more strength than necessary and squeezing it slightly before letting go.

They both blushed and Celeste smiled shyly, silently praying her hand did not feel clammy. They stepped forward as the line gradually grew smaller.

"So, are you going to Lydia's party? With Scott?" She asked him curiously.

His head snapped towards her.

"Yes but it's not a date," he blurted before wincing, but carried on, "Are you going? To the party?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Celeste said as her lips turned down slightly.

"Unfortunately?"

The line moved forward until the pair was just one person away from ordering.

"I don't know. Partying isn't really my thing I guess. Lydia wants me to go though, so I will."

She glanced at him, and was very annoyed by the pang of jealousy in her gut when his eyes lit up at the mention of Lydia's name. She had never been the jealous type.

She was drawn out of her thoughts as Stiles ordered.

"I'll have a number two, with curly fries instead of regular please.."

"For here or to go?" the very bored middle aged lady working the register drawled out.

"To go, please."

The lady nodded, typing various things into her machine.

"And for your girlfriend?" she continued in monotone.

Stiles made a guttural sound in his throat and his cheeks became splotched with patched of red. He started coughing uncontrollably and his eyes bugged out.
Celeste, with equally red cheeks but a thankfully less dramatic reaction, stuttered a reply.

"Oh no, no we are not dating. Not in the slightest, thank you very much. We are not even ordering together."

The lady looked at the two with an odd expression. She blinked.

"Whatever. That'll be five thirty-seven then."

Stiles, apparently still recovering, hastily scrambled for his wallet and forked over the money.

Celeste couldn't help but feel slightly offended. Was the notion so ridiculous that it left him sputtering for air?

She was brought out of her state of worry when she felt a nudge in her side.

She looked up and saw the worker staring at her impatiently, her false nails tapping against the side of the register.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Um, I'll have a number six with curly fries please. To go."

As she typed, Celeste glanced over and noticed Stiles still hovering awkwardly beside her, clutching his paper bag of wonders with one hand.

"That'll be two eighty-nine."

Celeste nodded, rummaging around her bag. She silently cursed herself when she felt the space where her wallet should be.

Awkwardly, she reached down to the bottom of her bag and began pulling various coins from the bottom of her bag, flashing a sheepish smile at the extremely ticked off lady.

Beside her, Stiles let out a breathy laugh before reaching back into his wallet and pulling out a crumpled five dollar bill and tossing it on the counter. Celeste's eyes widened at his kind actions.

"Jinkies. You don't have to... I've got it I swear," Celeste cried, never having been good at taking gifts from others.

He waved off her indignation with a soft smile.

"Please, I'll pay for anyone's curly fries."

At this she smiled, uttering her soft words of gratitude.

After claiming her meal, the two walked together to the parking lot.

"So, do you need a ride?" Stiles suddenly asked, breaking their silence.

"Sorry?"

"To the party, I mean," he elaborated nervously.

"Oh, thank you for the offer, but I live just across the street from Lydia," Celeste answered with a grateful smile, flattered by his kindness.

"Oh, right."

Celeste blinked once at his response.

"Oh god, I don't know why I said that," Stiles scrambled, "I swear I didn't know that."

She just laughed, focusing more on the way his whole body moved as he spoke.        

Being with him was like immersing yourself in a bathtub full of ice water.

It was shocking and made you a little antsy, but it was also refreshing and made her thoughts more clear. It was nice to be around someone so unapologetically themselves.

They reached the parking lot, and she turned towards him.

"My bike is over there," she awkwardly informed him, jerking her thumb behind her.

"Oh, okay. Well I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" Stiles asked.

Celeste smiled and nodded and headed towards her beloved bike, turning back and waving to Stiles at the last minute.

She felt like she was walking on clouds, just from holding a simple conversation with him.

Nestling her delicious smelling food into her messenger bag, she secured her helmet and started up her vehicle.

☾ ☽

Reaching home before her mother, thankfully, Celeste unlocked the front door, stepping in and switching on the lights.

She arranged her food on a plate and practically inhaled the delicious meal. Feeling full and light as air at the same time was a paradox she definitely enjoyed.

After eating, she took off her pants and danced to her Grouplove record for a while before settling down.

She pulled her weathered journal out and rummaged around in her desk for a pen. As with all her emotions, she had decided to deal with how she felt about Stiles in a poem.

However, as soon as the tip of her pen touched the paper, her vision was clouded by an image of swaying, tall trees.

It was so detailed that she felt she could smell the musky scent of the woods.

Confused, Celeste attempted to stand from her desk but found herself rooted to her seat. The muscles in her fingers twitched spastically.

Suddenly, a bright flash of light, along with an intense cry of pain surrounded her senses, and her hand began to flail about, the pen still clutched with a deathly grip in her white-knuckled hand.

Then, just as soon as it started, the images and sounds and smells skirted out of her mind and the pen collapsed with a small clatter on her desk.        

Horrified and confused, she looked down to the page of her journal only to find a message scrawled out on the paper in her own loopy handwriting.

The siren's sweet call led him towards her, luring him with serenities and whispered words, as slowly the fogs of her smoky dress flowed and danced and wrapped themselves around him, warming him with the gentle fires of hell

His brothers warned him of her terrors, but he brushed them aside, dazzled by her silver tongue and gentle fingertips

In the woods, no one could hear, no one could see as she smiled her beautiful smile, the whiteness of her teeth blinding him

In the bright darkness, he foolishly stumbled forward instead of away, right into the clutches of her silver fangs

The siren sang her pretty song as she sunk her hungry teeth into his shoulder, she soothed him with her enchanting words as she drank from his pure soul

The moss grows around his struggling body, shielding him from her wicked pleasantries, but the pools of ice embedded in his heart tore it apart.

"What the hell?" Celeste muttered to herself.

She quickly snapped the journal shut and pushed it away from herself.

She wanted to ponder more upon the curious occurrence, but she heard her mother's car pulling in.

Not wanting to confront her on this night, Celeste quickly turned off her desk lamp and slid into her warm bed.

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Hey guys long time no see. oops. I wrote this on my phone in the car so I apologize for any mistakes, I will go back and edit.

**its two years later and i'm just now editing**

I know it might be kind of annoying how awkward Stiles and Celeste are together, but I decided it would be nice to make a character as socially inept as Stiles, because I definitely connect with Celeste on that point.

And sorry if the message-poem-story thing was too vague or if it sucked or whatever, it's supposed to foreshadow Scott getting shot in the shoulder in the woods. I don't know, it was just my interpretation.

I am of course open to any constructive criticism, so please feel free. Thanks so much for reading my story,
-Belle xx

!!!- I've decided on Emily Rudd to play Celeste :)